Seeing Other People
by poppy23
Summary: A story of how love and hate and the world outside challenges real love, as Rose, Scorpius, Lily and co. try and work out where they stand in a world that has already judged them with it history. R&R if you love stories about try love and the complications along the way. Rose/Scorpius, Lily/Scorpius, a few OCs.
1. The Sorting

_Author's Note_

_I hope you enjoy this story. I'm hoping to make it around 80 chapters in total but we'll see how it goes. I never leave more than a week between updates! _

_Please review! Thanks _

The first years, around 40 of them, stood in a snaking line outside the doors to Hogwarts Castle. They waited in the dark under the watchful eye of Hagrid, who hung close to a pair of children near the front of the line. The girl of the pair had curly, auburn hair that was tied back into a neat plait. Her face was scattered with freckles and though she could not be called plain, neither was she especially pretty. She was a thoroughly acceptable-looking girl. The boy was slightly smaller than his cousin, with messy black hair and bright green almond-shaped eyes.

'Jus' like yer dad, you are,' said Hagrid to the boy, 'Feels like yesterday I was standin' 'ere with 'im, an' yer Mum 'n' Dad too, Rose.'

The children grinned up at the great man, having not seen him since he joined the Potters' and Weasleys' for a big Christmas Dinner that their Grandma Weasley had attempted the previous year. The half-giant beamed back, his dark eyes sparkling with joy.

Before long, an elderly, stout woman in mustard yellow robes emerged from behind the enormous doors. She smiled warmly at the long line.

'Welcome, first-years, to Hogwarts. I am Professor Sprout, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Hufflepuff house. You are about to enter the Entrance Hall of the castle. I will escort you directly through and bring you into the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your houses.'

Albus and Rose exchanged a nervous smile, and Hagrid patted Albus on the shoulder causing him to nearly fall over. 'Follow me,' Professor Sprout requested and the line stumbled after her through the castle doors.

The Entrance Hall was huge, with a great marble floor and stone walls. The children looked around in wonder at their new home, brimming with colour: portraits, suits of armour, tapestries… Directly in front of them were the Oak Doors that the children knew led to the Great Hall. A flutter of nervous excitement washed over the crowd.

As they approached, an inscription covering both of the doors came into view. It was a long list of names. Reading through them, Rose caught a few that she recognised: Fred Weasley… Remus Lupin… Nymphadora Lupin. Above the list, carved in even larger writing read: IN HONOUR OF THE 58 LIVES THAT WERE SADLY LOST IN THE BATTLE OF HOGWARTS 02 – 05 – 98 MAY THEY REST IN PEACE. Upon seeing this, many of the first years turned to look at Albus, and the young wizard shrunk closer to Rose, bewildered and slightly frightened.

They had reached the doors and Professor Sprout was pushing them open. Rose's heart was thundering in her chest. She saw Albus look to her for reassurance of his own nerves, though she failed to do this, too lost in her own concerns.

The first thing that came into view was the ceiling; a perfect night sky. She had seen the night filled with stars a thousand times from her bedroom window, but that sight would never be as beautiful as that ceiling, hanging clear and enchanting above her head as she stepped through the doors. The next sight was less pleasing. She looked down to see hundreds of faces turned towards her and her companions. Some were laughing, others clearly commenting on how 'cute' they were and others with dark, angry eyes that bored into hers.

The first-years shuffled up the aisle between what appeared to be the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, coming to a rest before the staff table. Rose eyed the limp, battered hat that she knew would soon to an extent decide her entire life at Hogwarts warily. She did not possess the terror of entering a house other than Gryffindor to the same level as Albus, but she was still nervous, still wanting to keep in line with the rest of her family. It would be a lie to say that she fitted in perfectly with them. Her cousins, aunts, uncles and even grandparents always seemed so sure of themselves, so confident in their words and actions, in their identities and content with them. Rose didn't feel that quite so much. She often didn't know what to say, while others talked so freely; or shied away from the large, loud, happy gatherings in favour of a book that would take her to a quieter world filled with people with doubts and flaws and insecurities, which she had always thought the rest of her family seemed to lack in comparison to her. All this meant to Rose, at this moment, was that she desperately wished that her sorting would not be another reason for her to be set apart from the rest of her family.

'The Sorting will now begin,' Professor Sprout announced as silence fell.

The hat stirred and yawned groggily as if waking up. There was a pause and then it began:

'A thousand years I've seen a lot,

Wars, from old to new,

I've watched the world from a-top my stool,

And sorted a millennium through,'

'And here I am a-top my stool,

To sort you all this night,

Place me upon your little heads,

And I'll read you, if I might,'

'Serpent, Eagle, Badger or Lion,

I'm the one to say,

Cunning, witty, hard-working, brave,

I'll tell you what's your way,'

'Never fear, I do not bite,

I'm here judge your mind,

And whichever house you end up in,

A family you'll find.'

There was a polite applause from staff and students. Professor Sprout stood again with a scroll of the first-years' names. Rose's heart sped up again.

'ABERCROMBIE, RHYS,' Sprout read.

A dark-haired boy near the front of the group stepped forward, visibly shaking. He tripped slightly and there were a few stilted giggles around the hall, only making the boy more nervous. When seated, Sprout raised the hat to his head. It had scarcely sat there a second when the cry came of, 'HUFFLEPUFF!' and thus the boy skipped over to the yellow-bannered table smiling.

Rose watched as student after student went up to receive their allocation. There, so far, had only been one Gryffindor sorted: a minute girl called Jessica Creevey. Rose grew more and more nervous and wished desperately to have been born with a surname that was nearer the front of the alphabet than 'Weasley'.

'MALFOY, SCORPIUS.'

The white-blond boy that her father had pointed out on Platform 9 ¾ stepped out from the crowd. His composure was betrayed by a clear fear that shimmered in his eyes. The hat was placed on his head and stayed there. Half a minute had passed before the hat cried 'SLYTHERIN!' Scorpius appeared relatively satisfied, and walked to join the emerald table. He was quickly joined by 'NOTT, ANWEN' and 'OLDRIDGE, CYRIL'

It was next the turn of 'POTTER, ALBUS', and this was the sorting that seemed to gather the attention of the entire hall, even the teachers leaned forward in interest. Sprout lowered the hat onto Albus' jet-black hair, and after several moments the shout of 'GRYFFINDOR!' came. His face lit up and there was a large cheer from the Gryffindor table. She watched as he sat down with Fred, Louis and James, with Victoire and Dominique clapping on the other side of the table. Rose felt a thrill of jealousy.

Rose's instinct was to be relieved for Albus, and happy that he had got his wish to become a Gryffindor. In many ways she did feel that. However, she couldn't help but feel a nagging disappointment. If Albus had been sorted elsewhere, she would not be the only non-Gryffindor if her sorting had gone a similar way.

After 'WALKER, VICTORIA' became a Hufflepuff, 'WEASLEY, ROSE,' was finally called. She stepped towards the hat shakily and sat down. She felt its weight on her head as Sprout lowered it only her curly hair.

'5th Weasley I've had in near as many years,' it whispered, and she jumped slightly, 'Hmm… let's see… I remember sorting your father; he was easy, typical Weasley, pure Gryffindor. Your mother was more difficult… very clever, that thirst for knowledge almost made her a Ravenclaw. I can see it in you, that want for learning. You wish to understand, to grow, to improve. It is your greatest aim. It was this fiery spirit I detected in your mother that tipped her into Gryffindor, but I do not find that in you. Not to say you cannot be as great, you truly can, but perhaps in-'

'RAVENCLAW!' the hat declared out loud and Rose's heart sank. She slipped from the stool and towards to blue table that had broken into applause. She didn't care for the applause. A backward glance showed her the encouraging smile of Victoire, with that golden lion emblazoned on her chest that Rose now so longed for. All her cousins would be together, the only people she knew it this enormous place, apart from her. She was unworthy.

Rose crept to the back of the Ravenclaw table and wished not to be seen, should anyone spot the tears that threatened to form in her blue eyes.


	2. The First Lesson

The night had been spent in lonely restlessness. The excitement that she had felt about her arrival at Hogwarts had dissipated. She had not gone to breakfast, unwilling to face her joyful and oh-so-together cousins and friends, and now found herself on her way to her first lesson, trailing after the other Ravenclaws and Slytherins that made up her class.

Rose stepped into the Potions classroom for the first time on 2nd September 2017. What struck her first was the darkness of it; for a moment she could scarcely make out the instructions already written out on the great chalkboard at the front of the room. She scuttled in with the rest of her class, none of whom she had yet built up the courage to talk to, for she had been too busy lamenting her new house to really think about socialising. Walking in, she peered with interest at the various vials and jars filled with all manner or obscure and sometimes grotesque-looking artefacts lining walls of the room. Those who had already formed tentative friendships grouped together when they took to their tables, and Rose, left standing alone, took the last available seat between a Ravenclaw and a blond-haired Slytherin.

They waited in nervous silence, listening to the footsteps that signalled the approach of the Potions Master. He entered. Professor Goldstein was tall and thin, with messy brown hair and bright, piercing blue eyes. He was younger than Rose had been expecting, maybe in his early 30s, and though he did not smile there was a calmness to his gaze that inspired confidence.

"Welcome to your first lesson at Hogwarts,' he said in a soft voice. 'I am Professor Goldstein, Potions Master and Head of Ravenclaw House. If Potions is a study of anything, it is of the human mind. It's an insight into the power that the natural resources on earth can have over man, or woman. This is why potions are important, and why I hope you will enjoy my lessons. Seeing as its your first day I'm sure you're all rearing to get involved in your first taste of practical magic, so I thought we should go straight into concocting a basic potion.'

By this point, Rose had decided that she liked Goldstein; he seemed genial and made the prospect of Potions, a subject that her father had long informed her would be dull and unpleasant, sound genuinely fascinating. She felt slightly cheered.

'We will start,' he continued, 'with the Forgetfulness Potion. When brewed correctly, it will cause the drinker to experience temporary short term memory loss, most commonly losing their entire memory of the past two minutes repeatedly for an hour, though stronger variants can have more permanent effects. I have laid out your ingredients on your desk and written the instructions on the board. See how far you can get on your own and ask me for any help required. You have 50 minutes.'

Rose set to work presently, pouring a mix of sliced caterpillars and daisy roots into her cauldron as instructed. Goldstein circled the classroom, occasionally peeking at a cauldron or stopping to offer assistance. It was not long before a small Slytherin's cauldron had started squirting up blobs of thick blue liquid that splashed all down his robes, much to the amusement of the rest of the class. The Ravenclaw beside Rose did not have much more success, his cauldron soon overflowing and spreading a deep purple gunk all over the table. When Goldstein came to correct the spillage, he stopped at the cauldron of the blond Slytherin and murmured 'Very good indeed, Mr Malfoy is it?' The blond boy nodded and blushed slightly. 'You too, Miss Weasley,' he added, and Rose turned crimson.

Rose had not properly looked at the blond boy next to her up to this point, but now realised that she recognised him. It was Scorpius Malfoy. After her father's jokes about him on Platform 9 ¾ the previous day, Rose began to wonder what it was her parents could have against the boy.

She longed to ask Scorpius if he was familiar with her family, for she knew little about her parents' lives outside of her upbringing. She and her cousins had been made vaguely aware that their parents had played a role in the Second War, but it had never been clear exactly what they did and what importance it was of, though they had occasionally had inklings that her parents may be downplaying the significance, such as when she caught glimpses of her Uncle Harry being mentioned in the Daily Prophet, or when people looked and pointed when she was out with her family. She had hoped that her introduction to Hogwarts would answer a lot of the questions she had about her parents' pasts, and here, in the form of Scorpius Malfoy, she saw an opportunity for information that had previously been denied her.

'S-Scorpius Malfoy?' she asked. The blond boy nodded, scarcely looking up from his cauldron. 'Erm… this is probably odd, but I think our parents know each other, or something?' He finally removed his eyes from his work and shrugged his shoulders.

'Probably, everyone knows your lot, don't they? I suppose something must have gone on, but my father doesn't like to talk about your family much, or the War,' his tone was not rude, precisely, but there was a slight coldness to it. It made Rose feel stupid and brazen for starting the conversation, though Rose felt a spark of excitement at the prospect of a person outside of her own family knowing her confusion.

'Was your dad important to the War too then?' His features darkened slightly and he shrugged again.

'Look, I already told you, he doesn't talk about it. How am I supposed to know what happened? You don't; why should I?' He snapped and turned back to his potion without another word. Rose was torn between being offended and confused, and settled somewhere between. She too turned back to her work and the pair did not exchange a word for the rest of the lesson.

Soon Goldstein called the lesson to a halt, summarised that their work had largely been a success and dismissed them. Upon this dismissal, Scorpius left the classroom hastily, making sure not to catch Rose's eye. She resolved that her father probably had good reason to be far from fond of the Malfoys. With this, she set off to Charms, again alone, refusing to give the boy another thought.


	3. The First Friend

Evening was turning to night as Rose sat in the Ravenclaw common room. Despite her initial hesitance about her housing, she had come to adore this room. Under the the midnight blue ceiling that was strewn with stars she felt peaceful as her fingers traced the pages of the newly published _A Wizarding History of The Second War. _Since her arrival at Hogwarts, Rose had been seeking to fully uncover the extent of her parents' involvement in the history of the War. It seemed important to her, more important than to her cousins at least, to understand the reason for the stares and whispers, the reason why her Uncle so often appeared in the Daily Prophet.

She wondered why her parents had not fully explained. Through her childhood, the most her parents had told her was that before she was born there was a terrible war, which her Uncle Fred and Teddy's parents had died in, and that they had helped defeat the Wizard responsible. It all sounded so grand and heroic, and made Rose feel all the worse in knowing that she would never be capable of such bravery and greatness. In the book that now lay in her hands, the total truth was gradually being revealed. With every page, the burden of living up to the heroisms of parents grew heavier on her shoulders.

So, they had not merely been a part of the resistance: they had been its figureheads. Uncle Harry had personally killed Voldemort, and her parents had been his closest friends, scouring the Wizarding World for clues, destroying horcruxes, willing to fight to the death for their friends.

Rose felt pride undeniably, but it was restrained by the knowledge that she had let them down. She had not shown their courage, she had been a Ravenclaw.

There was a knock from down the spiral stairs. Rose thought it bizarre; no one ever used the eagle knocker for knocking to get in. Had someone been unable to solve the riddle? She supposed this must be it. Then another first-year, whose name she remembered was Violet Boot, came up the stairs.

'Erm – You're Rose Weasley, right?' she asked and Rose nodded, 'there's someone for you outside the tower.'

'Oh, right – thanks,' Rose said, intrigued as to who would want to see her. Upon opening to door, and to her further confusion, she found Scorpius Malfoy.

'Hi…' she said, awkwardly.

'I know this is weird, but I wanted to apologise for having a go at you in Potions the other day. I know it wasn't your fault but it's just – I don't really like to talk about my father, especially not in terms of that War. But when I had a go at you – I don't know – I just don't want you to think I'm as bad as him. Sorry.' The words rushed from his mouth in one go and he was clearly embarrassed. He shuffled on the spot and his pale cheeks flushed rose for a moment.

'No, it's fine. Really. It's no big deal. It's just that I'm only just figuring out what happened then – and that it's a bigger part of my family's lives than they let on,' she sighed slightly. 'So I just thought you might know a bit more than me.'

'Yeah, I probably do. There's a classroom down the corridor – I know we shouldn't be out this late but if you me to tell you a bit more about it – as a kind of apology.'

'Yeah, sure,' she replied, though she felt a faint fear at getting into trouble so soon into her induction. Supressing this, Rose followed Scorpius down the corridor. Perhaps she had been too harsh in her initial judgement of him, for his apology had been profuse and seemingly genuine. She was also intrigued as to what he had to tell her, and she looked forward to the prospect of finding out the back story to the animosity between her family and his.

He opened a door to an empty classroom and she stepped through, perching herself on one of the chairs. Scorpius sat down opposite her and turned to her.

'I guess you want to know what happened between my parents and yours?' he asked, and she nodded. 'Basically, my father was in the same year as your parents and Hogwarts. Only, he didn't get on too well with your parents or your Uncle Harry. My father, he's one of those people who believe that Pure-Bloods are better and all that stuff. He's not that into it anymore, but I know he was then. Obviously, with your mother being muggle born they were always getting into arguments with each other.

'It got a bit more serious when my father joined the Death Eaters. From what I've heard he wasn't as into it as he made out, but he was trying to get his family back in favour with Voldemort and sort of ended up forced into it. So now my father and your lot were on opposite sides and the war was getting more and more serious.'

Rose listened with interest as Scorpius went on to tell her how his father had tried to hand over her Uncle Harry to Voldemort during the Battle of Hogwarts, and how his friends had tried to kill her mother. She listened in stunned silence, for she had been expecting a tale of petty High School rivalry.

'But one thing my father did tell me, albeit grudgingly, was that your parents and Harry saved his life a few times, and that he regrets a lot that happened. Personally, that's not really been enough for me. I can tell part of him still believes all the blood purity stuff, but he doesn't seem sorry enough for it to be true. He's hardly completely reformed.

'I confronted him about it all when I was 9. I was in Diagon Alley shopping with my mother and some people came up, calling me a son of a Death Eater and hurling abuse at my mother. I didn't know what was going on, so I asked him when I got home. He told me everything, but he's never mentioned it since. I know I'm not perfect, but he was a monster, and even now he's a cruel coward. I thought if I was sorted into another house I could prove I'm not like him. But I wasn't, so I guess I'm just like him at heart.'

Rose watched Scorpius look to the floor and recognised his own disappointment and frustration with himself in her own life.

'My worries are quite the opposite. My family are this big bunch of lion-hearted Gryffindors, and what am I? I'm not brave, I'm not daring, I'd just hide behind a book. I'm too scared to reply to their letters; they say they're proud of me but they're lying. I'm a disappointment.'

Scorpius looked at her and smiled tentatively. 'I'm sure you're not. They probably are proud of you. Your family sound like decent people, unlike mine. I guess it's nice to have someone kind of know how I feel though.'

'Yeah, I guess so.' She returned the slight smile.

They sat there for a while longer, talking about their fears and worries, their opposing upbringings and their longing to escape the weight of expectation placed on them by the pasts of their families. Returning to the Ravenclaw common room at an obscenely late time, Rose realised that she had made her first friend.


	4. 5 Years Time

Rose's eyes opened to see the sun pouring through her window. She smiled to herself and for a moment felt entirely calm. Sitting up, she surveyed the dormitory to see that the other girls were mostly ready, though Tiffany Davies was still faintly snoring.

'5 weeks and counting until our OWLs start!' declared Violet Boot, 'anyone freaking out yet?'

'Taking it in my stride,' replied Felicity Clearwater, who was sitting on the end of her bed brushing her hair, 'I mean, I know I'm not going to do terribly, so what's the worry?'

Violet rolled her eyes and Rose supressed a laugh. When robed and ready for the day, Rose and Violet headed down the spiral staircase and out of the Ravenclaw Tower.

'How are things going with Fred?' Rose asked, smiling.

Violet blushed. 'Quite well, I like to think. This weekend he's taking me to lunch in Hogsmeade.'

'Shall I start shopping for some new dress robes for the wedding then, cousin?' Rose asked, giggling.

'Oh, stop it!' Said Violet, though she smiled, 'I just mean that things seem to be going well, and he's sweet. But more importantly, what about you and Scorpius? Have YOU set a date yet?'

It was now Rose's turn to blush. 'Now, seriously, Violet, I've told you a million times we're just fr-'

'Yeah, yeah! You clearly haven't noticed the way he stares at you across the class in charms, like a lovesick puppy – it's adorable.'

Rose laughed. 'No, we both like things as they are. We're great friends and we don't want to ruin it, not that either of us have ever even considered each other like that at all.'

'Well, I wouldn't blame you. He's pretty hot, even though he _is_ a Malfoy. When you do finally get together, I bagsy telling James – his face will be hilarious! You know he hates Scorpius and he's almost as protective over you as he is of Lily.'

The girls were now walking through the doors to the Great Hall. Looking to the Gryffindor table, Fred, who was sitting with his usual gang of Louis, James, Francesca Longbottom (seated on James' lap) and Tommy McDonald, beckoned them over.

James, Fred and Tommy were already wearing their Quidditch kit ready for the morning's match against Slytherin. Fred was the Gryffindor seeker and James and Tommy were the beaters. Of her cousins, all of whom were currently at Hogwarts (spare Victoire and Dominique who had already graduated) it was only those two who had made their house teams. Although James often said that Lily and Roxy could give them a run for their money as beaters if they bothered to turn up at trials next year.

Violet sat next to Fred, who placed his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek, and Rose placed herself next to Tommy, on the edge of the group.

'Where's Scorpy-face, bottled it before the match?' James asked Rose, for Scorpius was a chaser on the Slytherin team.

'Play nice,' Frankie warned him and playfully slapped his arm.

'I don't know, probably just getting ready.' Rose replied, although she had been internally wondering this since they entered the hall.

At this moment Lily, red-haired and at 13 already beautiful, came and sat opposite Rose. She was red from laughing.

'Just saw Albus try and take package of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes goods off some seventh years. They just laughed and ignored him. Brilliant,' she grinned.

'We should stop him. That's damaging Dad's business!' Fred said, smiling.

'Good thing no one listens to him then,' replied James and they all laughed.

With this, Lily skipped off to join a group of her third-year friends at the other end of the table. Rose continued scanning the hall, and allowed herself to smile as she saw Scorpius walk into the Great Hall wearing his emerald green Quidditch kit. He was accompanied by Anwen Nott, a tall, pretty, dark-haired girl who at this moment was clearly engaging Scorpius in deep conversation. Rose's smile wavered. Without a word to the group, Rose stood and strode over to Scorpius, standing at an angle that clearly prevented the continuation of conversation between Anwen and he.

'Where've you been?' She asked, smiling as Anwen walked away.

'Oh, just gearing myself up for the match. I'm pretty nervous actually. James can be a brutal beater,' Scorpius replied.

'He's soft really; wouldn't hurt a fly. You don't need to worry.' Scorpius raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

Rose led Scorpius to the Ravenclaw table where they sat down to eat. Scorpius scarcely touched his plate, which he insisted was down to nerves for the match.

'You'll do brilliant today,' Rose reassured him, 'I've seen you play loads, and you're great. You really have nothing to be nervous about.' He smiled half-heartedly.

When breakfast had finished, Scorpius rose to join the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team.

'I can come with you, if you want?' Rose offered. Scorpius smiled.

'Na, it's ok. You'd be the only one there so early. See you after the match,' with that he turned and left. Rose sunk back to her seat.

'Oh, ok. Good luck,' she murmured feebly.

Rose did not wish to return to the loud laughter of her Gryffindor friends and tried to think of alternate ways to kill time before heading down to the Quidditch Pitch. As she did so often, Rose ended up at a table in the empty library, her eyes rolling over pages of her Transfiguration textbook without really reading it. Her thoughts lay elsewhere, out in the grounds on the Quidditch pitch, where Scorpius would now be practising.

She didn't fancy him. It was just Violet putting silly ideas in her head. He was the first best friend she'd had and still was. He, above anyone else, had been there for her when she was lonely or sad or worried. It was perfectly reasonable that she would have a strong emotional bond with him. But that bond never crossed into romance. Never.


	5. The Match

Rose and Violet stood towards the back of the Ravenclaw stand, watching jets of red and emerald fly through the air before them.

'I never get used to watching Quidditch,' shouted Violet over the roar of the crowd. 'I've never had a clue what's going on!'

Rose had to admit to herself that though she was able to comprehend the basic rules, her grasp of the game was not absolute.

'10 POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR!' bellowed the commentator and the whole crowd, spare the Slytherin stand bellowed. She obediently clapped along with Violet. Rose searched the whizzing forms for Scorpius but couldn't find him. She caught sight of Fred hovering high above the clamour, presumably seeking out the snitch.

'AND MALFOY HAS TAKEN THE QUAFFLE!' came the commentators cry and Rose's eyes snapped back to the game beneath. She saw his soaring through the air, ahead of the other green blurs, with the great, red ball tucked under his arm. She held her breath as he approached the hoops and the Gryffindor keeper squared up to him. Scorpius took aim, but then-

'POTTER TAKES OUT MALFOY WITH A BLUDGER! THAT IS GOING TO STING IN THE MORNING.'

Rose watched in horror as Scorpius plunged to the ground and landed in a heap on the dirt.

'Ooo,' echoed the crowd, but their attention was soon averted back to the game, while Rose watched a levitating stretcher take Scorpius off the pitch. Making sure not to be seen by Violet, she ducked behind a group of seventh-years and ran from the stands.

Worries flicked through her head. He hadn't stirred when he was on the ground. Had he awoken yet? Would he awake soon, or at all? She hadn't seen where the bludger had hit him, it had all gone too fast. What if it was his head? And then there was a flash of rage. James. James had always hated Scorpius with no other reason than for who Scorpius' father happened to be; the snide remarks in corridors and jokes at his expense, all undeserved and purposeless. And he'd taken the first chance that he'd had to do some damage. She would not let him get away with this lightly.

She was entering the castle now, and quickly ran up the staircases to the hospital wing. She arrived and Scorpius was already laid out on a bed, his head bandaged. Her heart jumped in her chest. She tiptoed towards the bed.

'W-will he be ok?' she asked Madam Pomfrey, and her voice shook slightly.

'Oh, yes. He'll be fine when he wakes up. Shouldn't be long,' replied the elderly witch and then bustled back to her office.

Rose perched herself on the edge of the bed and looked down at Scorpius; his pale flesh, his glimmering white-blond hair, his calm and unknowing expression. She let her hand move nearer to where his lay motionless. Her fingertips prickled as they touched his gentle fingers, but then Rose shook her head, slipped off the bed and walked slowly out of the hospital wing.

Looking out of a window in the corridor, she saw the stands were now empty and the last stragglers were now returning to the castle. Listening, she heard the classrooms buzzing with life and footsteps echoing everywhere. She walked on quickly, still filled with worry, anger and now confusion. What on earth had possessed her to want to hold his hand?

She set off up the stairs to the Ravenclaw tower, hoping that Violet could distract her with light conversation. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw gold and scarlet. She turned to see the Gryffindor Quidditch team heading to their tower, accompanied by a large group of congratulators. Then she saw James grinning.

'James, what the hell were you playing at?' she called, and the tall, black-haired boy looked bewildered.

'What are you on about?' he asked. Some were turning to look now; Rose saw Lily give her an incredulous look.

'You aimed that bludger at Scorpius because you wanted to hurt him!' she snapped, and a few of the crowd giggled.

'God, Rose, calm down! It's the game – he was going to score so I stopped him. Why do you care so much anyway?' Rose blushed slightly, but remained firm.

'Don't try and turn this on me. You've always hated him – just for being a Slytherin and a Malfoy. You're so proud to be Harry Potter's son but you're full of hate and prejudice.' James' eyes flashed. Albus looked very confused and Violet concerned.

'Yeah I don't like him very much; I'm not going to lie,' James retaliated. 'He's smug and proud and you seem to forget that his family are DEATH EATERS! His dad would've happily handed mine over to Voldemort during the War and you expect me to be pally with him? And another reason, he's turning you into this. This isn't like you – you sound crazy. Look around you!'

Rose did, and saw Gryffindor eyes looking back, hostile and mocking. James turned, ascending the staircase and the others followed. Two girls remained. Lily stepped forward.

'You need to sort this out Rose, seriously. I've seen Scorpius around and spoken to him a few times. He's a decent guy – and this isn't him doing this, it's YOU. Your head seems all over the place at the moment.' Lily half-smiled, that perfect, beautiful smile that charmed like Rose's never could. With a flick of her vivid red hair she too was gone.

Violet, remaining, moved forward to hug her but Rose shrugged her off and set off for the library. She knew they were right. She was falling apart and she didn't even know why. She sunk into a chair, hidden behind rows of bookcases, and remembered the time she last felt this confusion, this pain, this exclusion. It was in the Ravenclaw dormitory 5 years previously that Rose had lain in bed, sleepless all night, her eyes failing to keep in the tears, her mind troubled by the thought of her cousins and friends sleeping happily together in a room of red while she was blue. She was more alone now than she had been then; more alone now than ever before. The feelings in her that were growing and threatened to be revealed would only set her further apart.

She turned back to her History of Magic textbook and tried to think of it no more.


	6. The Dark Mark

The next morning Rose's shame had led her to hide again in the library away from the eyes of the Gryffindor table, away from Violet's concerned questions, and away from perfect Lily's advice. She had slept poorly, sneaking up to the Tower when everyone else was in bed and rising before they had awoken. Now the sun streamed through the windows and hurt the eyes that were red from crying. She tried to read but the words did not go in; they could no longer distract her. Instead she laid her head on the table, closed her eyes tight and tried desperately to think of nothing. She failed, but this time managed to supress the tears. Her cousins all hated her now, thought she was mad. Scorpius would hear about it and think the same; be embarrassed to be her friend. That she knew.

Then she heard footsteps behind her and the seat beside her was drawn and on it he sat. She turned her head weakly to see Scorpius, sitting there glimmering and glorious in the morning light, with a small plaster on his forehead the only sign of injury. He smiled at her, and she bowed her head again.

'Rose, what's wrong?' he asked

'Oh Scorpius, why are you even here? You must think I'm an idiot,' tears threatened to form in her eyes again.

'What are you talking about? I heard that you came to see me at the hospital wing.' Rose tried not to blush at the memory. 'It was nice of you to think of me,' he said, slightly shakily and perhaps a tad embarrassed.

'Why wouldn't I? Sometimes it feels like you're the only one who doesn't have it in for me,' she sighed.

'Rose, you're straying into self-pity. That won't help,' he said, and his voice was strong but not harsh. 'I don't know what you're so down about but just forget about it – being like this won't do you any good,' he raised her chin with his index finger. 'Chin up, Weasley.'

She laughed and smiled, before seriousness resumed in her blue eyes. 'Thank you, Scorpius.'

'Anytime,' he said and winked.

'Don't do that,' she laughed, 'You're terrible at winking; you look ridiculous.'

'Not as ridiculous as you after crying,' he teased and her cheeks turned rose. He hugged her tight and she closed her eyes as her chin rested on his shoulder. 'It'll be alright, yeah?'

'Yeah,' she agreed, and they looked at each other for a moment. 'What's that on your arm?' she asked, noticing a dark line going down his left forearm.

'Nothing,' he said, trying to look genial while obviously uneasy, and shook the sleeve to cover his arm.

'It's not nothing!' she said, and pulled back the sleeve to reveal an image in black ink of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth. Rose gasped. 'Scorpius, what is that doing there? The dark mark!'

His pale cheeks when red slightly and he frowned. 'Look, it's nothing. A few people just drew it on, thought it was funny, I guess.'

'And you went along with it? Do you think it's funny?' she demanded, standing.

He pulled her back down to her chair and lowered his voice to a whisper. 'Of course I don't! Just like everyone else are you? Think I'm taking after father?'

'You've got the dark mark on your arm!'

'Keep it down!' he warned. 'They used _petrificus totalus_ – I couldn't stop them doing it. They wanted to remind me that I'm nothing but a Death Eater's son. But then again, I should be used to it by now, shouldn't I? Even you thought it for a second.'

'No I didn't,' she protested, 'I just freaked out. I'm sorry; you know that I know you're not like that. You know I-' she stopped and blushed, 'that you're my best friend.'

'I know. I just hate it, y'know? It's constant,' he sighed and sat back in his chair.

'Who did it anyway? You need to tell a teacher about this. It's totally unacceptable. They've got away with calling you names for years but this is too far, Scorpius.'

'No, I don't need anyone to look after me, Rose, just leave it,' she drew away again, wounded, 'Sorry; I'm just stressed. And it was that McLaggen kid again, Callum isn't it? The Seventh Year?'

'McLaggen? He's a nasty piece of work from what I gather,' she said, 'even James and all the Gryffindors can't stand him. If you insist on not telling anyone then fine, but seriously Scorpius, this is bad. Give me your arm.' Without reluctance, for he trusted her magical competence thoroughly, he held out his arm to her.

'Scourgify,' she muttered, tapping his arm with her wand, and the ink was siphoned off, leaving it clear.

'Thanks Rose,' he said, pulling his sleeve back over his arm.

'Anytime,' she smiled and he returned it. There was a moment of quiet and that incredible urge to hold Scorpius' hand seized her again. Before she could even think of putting his into action, Scorpius stood up.

'To breakfast!' he declared, 'you need feeding up, and so do I after yesterday.'

'The Great Hall,' she sighed, 'Really?' Her thoughts were filled with a hostile Gryffindors and a patronising Lily.

'Yep, c'mon,' and when she hesitated he grabbed her hand and pulled her up. She felt a thrill run through her and he pulled her from the library and down to the Great Hall. Scorpius dropped her hand as they approached the oak doors and Rose drew back slightly, unwilling to expose herself to the opinions of those within. Scorpius rolled his eyes and nodded towards the doors and she reluctantly followed.

The hall was fairly empty, but she caught sight instantly of James' messy black hair and soon saw that it was surrounded in the red heads of Fred, Lily and Hugo, and the blonde of Louis. Lily looked up and their eyes met across the hall. She leaned over the table to the others and indicated Rose to them. James' head turned and Rose quickly followed Scorpius in the other direction to the Slytherin table, though she was sure she saw James' roll his eyes.

'How's the head?' Rose asked as they sat down and Scorpius began scooping breakfast onto his plate.

'Alright, I think. I've just got a bit of a bump. Did you write to tell your folks about the 100% you got in the Charms mock?' he smiled.

I mentioned it, she smiled back, 'Dad was over the moon; he always get excited when I do well in tests. Have you heard from yours lately?' Scorpius' face darkened and he broke eye contact.

'No.' Rose knew that was the extent of conversation on his family.

Rose looked at him, happily tucking into his food and envied his apparent piece of mind. How could he so easily accept the trials of his life, the stress of the OWL exams, his strained relationship with his father, the cruelty of his peers and their widespread and open hostility towards him? How did he cope with this when Rose couldn't even cope with her growing feelings for him and a few disagreements with her cousins?

She sighed and turned back to her omelette, before feeling a tap on her shoulder. She looked round to see Hugo standing there, his red hair level to her head as she sat. His large brown eyes looked to her with concern and Rose felt her insides twist.

'Lily told me about you and James having a row.'

'Did she?' said Rose and felt a squirm of annoyance.

'Yeah, are you ok? What's going on? Are you friends again now?' the questions rushed from his mouth quickly. Rose turned her back to him.

'Hugo, go away, will you? I'm fine. Don't you have some second years to play cars with?'

Rose only caught a glimpse of Hugo's hurt expression as he turned back towards the Gryffindor table, and she only felt a small rush of guilt, which was dwarfed by the despairing knowledge that she was floating away from her family, and fast.


	7. Anwen Nott

After Hugo's departure, Rose looked back to Scorpius. During the time of her brief conversation with Hugo, Anwen Nott had slithered up to Scorpius and now sat beside him. That Anwen was pretty Rose could not deny. She was tall, willowy and thin, with a neat black bob and wide brown eyes. Presently, her long lashes flickered in the flattering light and she twisted a strand of her ebony hair through her index and middle finger while she leant towards Scorpius. Rose's eyes flashed.

'Your parents are coming over for dinner this Easter, will you be there?' she asked softly. Scorpius did not look at her but smiled.

'I do apologise but I won't be able to make it, regretfully.' Anwen's expression turned stony for a moment, but then resumed its flirtatious smile.

'Whyever not?' she inquired, leaning towards him. Scorpius turned to her and paused for a moment.

'Because, my dear friend, Rose has already invited me to her house on the same day!' Rose looked at him suspiciously; this was news to her.

'Oh,' said Anwen, pushing her lips together bitterly, 'Another time then.' And with a scolding look to Rose, Anwen went further down the table to join Algernon Goyle and Cyril Oldridge. Rose turned back to Scorpius.

'Are you actually coming round mine?' she asked, trying to hide her hope.

'Have to now,' he smiled back and she supressed her grin. 'I mean, it's not Anwen's fault.' Rose's heart sunk slightly. 'I just can't stand the whole stuffy old family dinner. They bore me to death. No idea how she puts up with it.'

Though Rose was slightly disappointed that his decline of Anwen's invitation was not out of dislike for her, but for their parents, the rest of breakfast progressed in amicable conversation and Rose felt relatively carefree, her familial woes forgotten at Scorpius' word. As Rose finished her food, a high pitched shriek told her that it was the time of the owls. There were few this morning, but amongst them Rose caught sight of her Northern Hawk Owl, Athena. Athena swooped through the air and flew along the Slytherin table, perching next to Rose and dropping a letter on her empty plate.

'Thanks, Athena,' said Rose, gently stroking the owl's head. She then turned to her letter and instantly recognised her mother's neat handwriting. She tore it open.

_Dear Rose,_

_I know how much you must be stressing about your exams now so I thought I'd drop you a word of encouragement! Your father and I both know you have nothing to worry about; you're a brilliant, intelligent girl and all we want is for you to try your best and you'll succeed. Don't let the work get on top of you. _

_There are a few bits of news from here: _

_I've just been made Head of the Department of Law Enforcement. I heard back yesterday and can't wait to get stuck into work, although there looks like there's so much to do. It should keep me on my toes while you and Hugo are away. _

_Far more importantly, Teddy and Victoire are engaged! Harry told me they're planning a summer wedding and really want to push the boat out, at least if Fleur has her way. It must be so exciting for them – and to think we thought it was all over when she got the job in France. Hopefully Teddy will be far better behaved than your father was at our wedding and not make a fool of himself on the dance floor after a few too many fire whiskeys. _

_Enjoy the last week of term and we can't wait to have you back for Easter. Give Hugo my love. _

_Lots of love,_

_Mum_

Here her father's not so neat handwriting had made an addition:

_P.S. Don't listen to your mother – I was on my best behaviour that night. And don't worry if you mess up a few subjects; your mum was pants at Divination! Love from, Dad. _

The letter filled Rose with a soothing feeling that warmed her heart and brought a smile to her face. She did miss her parents when she was at Hogwarts. Then a shadow fell over her. What would they make of how brutal she'd been to Hugo or James or even Violet? She could barely think of it without being swallowed again by guilt. Her good humour was now thoroughly ruined.

'Nice letter?' asked Scorpius from across the table, and Rose snapped back to reality.

'Oh, yeah,' she said, 'just mum asking how I'm doing.' Scorpius smiled at her but it could not shake the weight of shame at Rose's core. She felt sick with herself. She threw a backward glance to the Gryffindor table and saw Hugo was gone. James and Frankie sat entwined, whilst Lily and Roxanne giggled together. She envied them again, how faultless they seemed to be. How lovely their every move was. Even quiet Albus was apparently delightfully carefree as he chatted to Jason McLaggen (Callum's far gentler brother) and Jessica Creevey. She wasn't one of them at all. She hadn't been for a long time now. Her behaviour towards James had merely cemented it. And she couldn't really be Scorpius' either. She knew it in the way he was, in everything about him, that he didn't want her. He couldn't want her.

She looked back to him and saw that he had vacated his seat. She searched along the table and then caught sight of him at the other end. Talking to _her._ Anwen Nott smiled as Rose could not, walked with a grace Rose could never match, seduced with a single look as Rose would never be able to. All Rose could do was sit there hopelessly and watch as she won him; watch as he smiled at her; watch as she brushed his arm as she laughed at his jokes.

She had to get out of here.

Without a word to anyone, Rose stole from the Great Hall and began the walk down to the Potions classroom, her first lesson of the day. She walked with speed and her eyes, filling with tears, earned her curious stares from those she walked past. She clasped her textbook to her chest as if it were the only certain thing in the world. As she neared the classroom and the air grew colder and the walls grew danker Rose felt more at home, away from smug joy and light and cheerfulness. She was in the dungeons now, and turned off the main corridor and into a dark corner-space where she could sit in silence for a while. She allowed the tears to run down her face, though she forbade herself from making a sound lest she attract attention. There she remained for a while, letting her sadness ebb away with the tears until she was left with the resolved comfort of having cried all there was to cry.

Her mood and despair had far from improved, but now she felt a kind of closure, which was only shattered with the coming of voices down the corridor.

'I hope Rose is alright,' she heard Anwen say, faking concern. Rose felt an anger in the pit of her stomach.

'She'll be fine. Probably just going to check that Athena got back to the owlery fine,' Scorpius responded.

'I hope so,' said Anwen.

Rose peered round her corner, but remained in the shadows enough to not be seen. Anwen and Scorpius had passed her hiding place come to a halt outside the Potions classroom. He leant against the wall and she faced him, cornering her prey, as Rose saw it.

'It's lovely how you worry about her,' said Anwen, 'it's so considerate of you.' Rose saw her take a step towards him as Rose's insides squirmed. Scorpius merely stared ahead, not quite focusing on Anwen, but neither looking away. 'You're so kind, Scorpius. No one seems to give you credit for it, with all that silly Death Eater bullying,' she moved closer again. Her nose and his were a few inches apart. 'I've always known how wonderful you are, Scorpius.'

She neared her face to his and Rose could bear to watch no longer. In terrible silence Rose glided up the stairs and away, not looking back for an instant to see the horror that had unravelled.


	8. Back to the Start

She ran, as she always did, to the library. She crouched over a book at a table as always. As she scanned the pages of her book she realised that she hadn't read properly in a long time. For her, reading had recently only been a distraction from her sadness, and the words never really went in. They did not now. All she could see was Anwen's face nearing Scorpius'. That image tore at her insides and evoked a fury that she had not known before. But most of all it stung, deep in her chest. She allowed herself to gasp as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Anwen and Scorpius were probably together now, so they'd hang out all the time. He wouldn't need Rose anymore. Her cousins all hated her so now she was alone. Forever. Or at least the forever that is visible to a heartbroken 16 year old girl.

She stood to return her book to the shelf, giving up on her attempt to read. However, the space left by the sizeable book on the shelf allowed her to peek through to the other side, and see James sitting at a table, his head despairingly in his hands. She couldn't decide what was more bizarre: to see James anything other than buoyant and cocky, or to see him in the library. Though embarrassed with her display on their previous meeting, her cousinly affection led her round the shelf and to stand nervously beside where he sat.

'James?' she said quietly and he did not look up. 'Are you ok?' Without a word or even a look he pushed his chair back and walked away. 'I'm sorry, James, don't go.' He turned round and glared.

'No, I'm not ok. I've just had a row with Frankie. Pretty bad one actually. Not that you care, too wrapped up in all your little issues aren't you?' He tried to walk away again but she protested.

'It's not like that – it's just hard-'

'No it's not! What you never seemed to understand is that no one ever pushed you away. When you were sorted into Ravenclaw it didn't matter to us – we were all proud of you. Albus still hung around with you as normal, Fred and I still teased you as normal, but you were so convinced that you were an outsider that you made yourself one.

'We were all so close before, but now apart from a quick hello when you don't have Scorpius to talk to your just cut yourself off. You barely even acknowledge Hugo, your own brother.'

She bowed her head under his stern gaze. 'I know James, I was just scared.'

'You're always scared. You never used to be like this. And the worst bit is that I don't even know whether this is the real you or not. Is all your paranoia and self-pity making you like this, or have you just grown up and this is who you are now? I really hope that's not the case.' He sighed and his anger eased, now an expression more like resolute disappointment overcame him. Rose felt sick.

'It was just seeing you all together – happy and laughing all the time. I was jealous.'

'Then you should have joined in. We missed you. Houses mean a lot less than you think, Rose. It's just where you sleep. You believe all that school nonsense about your house being your family way too easily. We're your family, Rose. You shouldn't have let anything change that.'

Rose nodded and tried to supress the tears in her eyes. James pulled her into a bug. She tucked her head over his shoulder and allowed a tear or two free.

His voice was quieter now, and gentle. 'You're like a little sister to me, Rose,' he said, 'and I'm worried about you. Maybe talk to Albus, you two used to be best mates. I know he's missed you.' He released her and Rose wiped her eyes.

'I've missed him too – and all of you. Maybe we should have a kind of family party over Easter. We haven't had one in a while.'

James smiled down at her. 'Knowing Grandma Weasley it's already planned.' He patted her curly auburn hair and turned to leave. 'Thanks for cheering me up a bit.'

'You too,' she answered, 'bye, James.'

He left and she sat for a moment where he had. She felt calmer now, and more ready to mend her waning relationship with her family than ever. James' forgiveness had given her what she needed. Though her memories of Scorpius and Anwen stung her chest, there was hope now.

She glanced to the clock on the wall and saw that she had nearly missed an entire lesson. Rose felt a small thrill of nerves at the punishment that might await her. Her next lesson was Herbology with Professor Longbottom, or Neville as she knew him outside school. Though Professor Sprout remained Deputy Head and Head of Hufflepuff, her advanced years had led her to giving up the actual teaching for 10 years now to focus on her responsibilities and Head of House and Deputy. This allowed Neville to take the position of Herbology teacher.

Rose set off for the greenhouses presently. Seeing as the Ravenclaws shared this lesson with the Gryffindors, she could think of no better opportunity to renew her friendship with Albus. The sun was pouring over the grounds and the scenery was one of bright colour. She felt refreshed and contented. Looking over to Hagrid's house, she saw the gamekeeper's private collection of Augurey's flying around near-by trees in their slow, regretful way. But then, in this brilliant sunlight even their dull, greenish-black feathers looked an enthralling glitter of colour.

Approaching the greenhouse Rose saw that she was not quite late for the lesson, with stragglers still behind her. She entered quietly and took a place next to Albus and Jason, smiling tentatively at the former. He returned it heartily, though his surprise was evident. Neville stood at the front of the class chatting enthusiastically to the small Jessica Creevey, who appeared genuinely interested in the properties of a Fanged Geranium. Rose turned again to Albus and saw him vaguely jabbing at the root of his geranium with his wand, attempting half-heartedly to placate it.

'Sorry if I haven't spoken much for a while,' she said. He looked to her and she saw no malice in his emerald eyes.

'It's fine Rose. I know you've had a lot on, but it's good to have you back.' His smile was warm and pure.

'It's no excuse, Al. I've missed hanging out with you,' perhaps she had not noticed quite how much she truly had until the words had left her mouth.

'I've missed it too. Actually, me and Lily were going to go and see Hagrid after lessons. Do you want to come along?' She gratefully accepted his invitation.

Inside her she felt the echoes of bygone years, when she and Albus had whiled away their childhood summers at the Burrow, or the beaches around Tinworth, where Rose lived. The lesson passed quickly and painlessly, with Rose managing to keep her Geranium under control with relative ease, though Albus got a few stings and Jason McLaggen ended up with a swollen hand. Jessica Creevey had excelled the others, with her Geranium flopped over calmly as if sleeping. Neville announced the end of the class and smiled at Albus and Rose as they walked past. She and Albus talked animatedly as they walked slowly towards the castle, reminiscing about their shared childhoods and discussing their approaching OWLs. At this moment in time, Rose felt incredibly happy as she watched the sun illuminate the Black Lake and the students walking carelessly about over the soft, bright grass.


	9. Their End

It was lunchtime now, and Rose had come to sit under a large beech tree with Albus, Jason, Lily, Roxanne and Violet. Lily, Violet and Roxanne enthusiastically discussed the latter's crush on Tommy McDonald as they watched the group of Tommy, James, Fred and Louis sit down by the lake not far from them.

'You know he's going out with Aoife Finnegan,' Violet reminded her. Roxanne looked appalled.

'Aoife? The Sixth Year? She looks boring; he could do so much better.'

'She's quite pretty,' said Lily, smiling, 'You only don't like her because of Tommy. Talk of the Devil, here come the fan girls now.'

Rose couldn't help but laugh at Lily's observation as a group of four girls approached the boys by the lake. Lauren McLaggen, Jason and Callum's horrifyingly popular sister and Louis' girlfriend led the group, followed by the aforementioned Aoife and the slightly quieter but undeniably attractive Ella Doherty. Frankie Longbottom lagged behind them, her usual confidence clearly hindered, and her eyes looked red from crying.

'How comes you aren't over there with Fred?' Roxanne asked Violet.

'We're not joined at the hip, you know,' she replied quietly.

'Have you had a row? Are you ok?' said Lily, a concerned look in her warm brown eyes.

'No, don't worry. What do you reckon is wrong with Frankie?' asked Violet, changing the subject.

Here Rose entered the conversation. 'When I spoke to James earlier he said they'd had a row. It must be a big deal, he seemed really upset.'

'That's odd,' said Lily, 'They were all over each other this morning. It was disgusting.'

'I hope they don't split up,' sighed Roxanne, 'Maybe Neville will stop coming to Grandma's parties because it will be too awkward for Frankie and James. Neville's a laugh.'

'You're getting ahead of yourself,' said Lily, 'They're made for each other. Plus, they've been together forever. It'll be fine.'

Rose scarcely believed this, for Lily had a history of being a romantic idealist. At the age of 10 Lily had cried when Teddy and Victoire split up after she was offered a position at the French Ministry; she had similarly squealed with joy upon discovering James' and Frankie's relationship, expressing her wish for Neville and his three daughters to be official parts of the family.

She adored the idle chattering of the girls and the calm, carefree, glorious spring weather. She listened to the music of their conversation as it took up the topic of the two groups they watched being the coolest kids in Hogwarts, and whether their own popularity would ever reach such heights in their later years at school. The words were so irrelevant, so silly, and this is why Rose loved them. She loved to hear Albus and Jason discuss what to write for their Potions essay, and to watch James and Fred bent over the Marauder's Map, planning their next escapade while the former clearly tried to ignore the beautiful, tearful girl that sat near him, being gently comforted by Ella.

Rose heard footsteps behind her and looked round to see Scorpius approaching. Rose could see no Anwen in sight. Lily and Violet also looked round, drawn away from Roxanne's gossiping by his arrival. He stopped in front of Rose, his expression critical. She looked up at him blankly.

'Where've you been? Why weren't you in Potions?' he asked, evidently annoyed to find her lounging so happily while he had worried.

'What do you care?' snapped Rose and looked to the ground.

'Sorry, I think I'm missing something. What exactly have I done?'

'Like you don't know!' she laughed derisively and Scorpius looked bewildered, 'Just go, Scorpius. I don't want you here.' Rose didn't know whether she meant it. All she knew was that being near him caused too much pain and her fury was yet to be soothed.

'Alright, I will then. But I don't know what you're talking about; this isn't fair.' With that he turned on his heel, his black robe slicing through the air, and headed back to the castle. She watched him go coldly, her heart silently aching.

'What happened? Are you ok?' asked Violet, spinning around to face Rose.

'It's complicated, don't worry,' she muttered.

'That was out of order. He really didn't seem to know what he's done,' protested Lily, ever the champion of goodwill. 'I'm going to see if he's ok.'

Rose did not argue back. Lily set of the castle too.

'Sure you don't want to talk about it?' asked Violet

'No.'

'Suit yourself.'

Violet turned back to her conversation with Roxanne. Rose looked away and watched the red head follow the blond as they vanished through the castle doors in quick succession. It was now Albus who directed his conversation to Rose.

'Don't worry about Scorpius,' he said, 'He always seemed a bit dodgy.'

Rose smiled weakly and he smiled back.

'Never trust a Malfoy,' joked Jason from beside Albus. Rose's eyes flashed.

'Your brother thinks that too, doesn't he?' her tone was cutting and harsh. Jason drew back, offended.

'I was joking, Rose. You don't have to tell me my brother's a nasty piece of work.' Jason snapped and turned back to his half-finished essay.

Albus looked at Rose sadly, deploring her constant need to attack. Rose bowed her head and was irritated with herself. She could tell she'd ruined another reconciliation, first with Lily and Violet and now with Albus, and doubted whether she ever would be able to get on in peaceful harmony with them as they seemed to do amongst each other. She knew then that she had spent too long lonely, too long ready to hate anyone who wasn't Scorpius. She wished only to retreat to the library, where over the years she had so often found comfort in the gentle, easy conversation of Scorpius, and now she would find only further misery and loneliness.

Looking over at the group by the lake, she caught James' eye and he gave her an encouraging smile. No, she couldn't go to the library. She couldn't cut herself off all over again.

'Sorry, Jason,' she said quietly, 'Just been a bit stressed.' Jason looked somewhat surprised and Albus pleased.

'No worries,' Jason said.

'Are we still fine to see Hagrid tonight?' asked Rose.

Albus smiled, 'yeah, don't see why not. Meet in the Entrance Hall at 4?'

'Perfect.'

Her disagreements with Lily, Violet and James had proved that rebuilding her relationships would not be easy, but there was hope. Tiny flickers of hope in James' smile and Albus' invitation. She would work at it, she resolved, at least while this inspiration lasted. And as for Scorpius, she would have to block him from her mind. She couldn't watch him go about Hogwarts with Anwen, she knew she wouldn't be able to stand it. She couldn't share him with her of all people. Rose also knew that soon it wouldn't be sharing anyway, soon enough Anwen could take him completely and he would lose all interest in her whatsoever. It was easier to spare herself this by ending their friendship now, even though it stung and would do, she knew, for a long while yet.


	10. The Augurey

After a seemingly never-ending Divination lesson, Rose made her way through the ancient corridors to the Entrance Hall. Upon her arrival, Albus turned and grinned, while Lily's attempt at a smile was far more subdued. Rose felt the awkward air but remained unapologetic for her conduct towards Scorpius, though she had some sympathy for Albus who, stood between them, seemed helpless to uncomfortable nature of the scene.

'How was Divination?' he asked to break the silence.

'As good as Divination can be,' replied Rose, 'which is pretty torturous.' Albus smiled again and Lily did not.

The trio continued in silence out of the castle and into the grounds that were still lit by a pleasant sunlight. There was total peace in the gently swaying grass and the distant waters of the Black Lake. Rose watched the daisies dipping their heads in and out of the green ocean, and the clouds observed the scene in their urbane manner. There was quiet but for the gentle breeze to the ear.

'Scorpius is really cut up, you know,' came Lily's voice to break the peace.

'He'll live,' said Rose, looking forward and away.

'I don't even get what he's done wrong – and nor does he.'

'Well you wouldn't know because it's got nothing to do with you.' Rose turned to face Lily now. Lily looked straight back.

'I'm being there for him seeing as you obviously aren't.' Lily flicked her vibrant hair from her eye in irritation and glared at Rose.

'He doesn't need you – he's got Anwen!' Rose's voice shook slightly upon saying the name out loud. She had a wild look in her pale eyes that could only be attributed to the uncontrollable agony of love. Lily rolled her eyes and smirked slightly.

'What are you on about now?'

'Anwen Nott. I saw him snogging her this morning.'

Rose would not allow herself to cry thus pushed back the lump in her throat. Lily looked at her and then laughed openly. Albus turned to look at his sister in shock.

'Lily, Rose is-'

'Oh, calm down, Al. Scorpius told me what happened. She tried it on with him and he pushed her away. And is that really why you're not talking to him? I knew you were into him but god!' Lily looked at Rose in amused disbelief.

'He's not going out with Anwen?' muttered Rose.

'You think he'd go out with Anwen? That stuck up cow? Are you sure we're talking about the same Scorpius?'

Rose felt the relief mix with a sharp twang of pain in her chest. 'Yes, Lily, that's what I thought. I know him. He's my best friend, and that's what I thought.'

'Maybe you should start acting like his best friend then,' Lily suggested in a light but perhaps patronising tone. Rose shook her head and gave Lily a filthy look.

'DON'T tell me how I should act towards Scorpius. Will you butt out for god's sake? You don't even know him.'

'Don't I? Because to be honest, Rose, I seem to have been there for him a bit more than you lately.' Lily was no longer openly angry, but it only served to make her more irritating in Rose's eyes; the false concern; the condescension under the guise of advice.

'I've had enough of this. I'm going.' Rose snapped.

'What? Why? Just chill,' protested Lily, but Rose ignored her. She turned to Albus and addressed him.

'I'm sorry; we'll do this some other time. Say hi to Hagrid for me.' Albus nodded solemnly and as Rose walked away she could hear Albus voicing his disapproval at Lily's handling of the situation, though he admitted that it was Rose's fault before she was out of earshot.

She didn't know whether to feel jubilation or disappointment. Rose doubted she could truthfully tell herself that she'd tried her best to be nice to Lily. Perhaps it was only Albus' uncommon kindness that prevented him from outright loathing Rose too. She did miss her and Lily's days of friendship, but perhaps they were too different now for the wounds of time to heal. Perhaps Lily was just too popular and confident now to look upon the girl who she once idolised (as children do to elder ones) with anything but distaste. But even as she thought it Rose knew this was a harsh judgement on Lily's character. She knew Lily could be kind and gentle in everything from Rose's memories of a little girl crying because she feared her almost-brother heartbroken to her concern for Scorpius now. Lily was caring and at times vulnerable, but also passionate and fierce, more so than Rose knew how to relate too.

Rose allowed her mind to drift to other worries and wondered whether she should seek Scorpius out immediately and apologise for her actions. Then she checked the idea; no, for then he would know that his almost-kiss with Anwen had caused her fury. He could not be allowed to know that. Then what was she to do? What explanation could she give for her sudden change of behaviour? She didn't want to lie; but neither did she want to tell the truth. But her mind was weary and her emotions exhausted. Scorpius was best avoided for tonight, she concluded, perhaps the morning would bring clarity. And, of course, Rose had a gargantuan Herbology essay to complete by the morning. With everything else going on, she could at times forget her coming OWLs, and the work that she was neglecting due to her tumultuous mind.

Rose decided to return to the Ravenclaw common room and set to work. Perhaps she would meet Violet there and offer her an apology, which might put her in more optimistic spirits. The scene was still so beautiful as she approached the castle, and the cry of Hagrid's Augurey echoed from the distance.


	11. The Library

It rained from the moment Rose opened her eyes. The storm had brewed during the night and now was at its worst. She sat up in bed, to see the other girls asleep spare Violet, who was perched on the windowsill gazing out into the rain. Rose had not got to apologise last night, for Violet had not returned to the Common Room by the time Rose had retired to bed.

'Sorry for being so snappy yesterday,' Rose said, and Violet turned round. Her smile was small.

'It's not just yesterday though, is it? You've been doing this a lot lately,' she replied, her voice still, as ever, gentle.

'I know. I don't know what's wrong with me,' Rose hung her head. Violet slipped from the windowsill and sat next to Rose on the bed, putting her arm around her.

'Everyone's really stressed at the moment, and I know you must be too with all this Scorpius stuff.'

'What Scorpius-?'

'Oh, Rose,' sighed Violet, 'you don't have to pretend anymore. I know how you feel about him; virtually everyone does now apart from him.'

Rose rested her head on Violet's shoulder and let out a muffled sob.

'I'm a mess and everyone hates me,' she choked.

'No one hates you,' said Violet, hugging her closer, 'you just need to get stuff sorted out with Scorpius. Go and talk to him today. You don't have to tell him – but maybe you should just try and get back to how things were.'

'But how can I after what I've done? And I don't want to go back to that and neglect my cousins and you and everyone else.' Rose sunk into Violet's straight, dark hair.

'It doesn't have to be one or the other, Rose,' said Violet, 'You can have us all, you know, you just need to balance it a bit more.' Rose emerged from Violet's arms, tear-stained but half-smiling.

'I really will this time. I really will.'

Rose did indeed feel a kind of epiphany. When she had focused on building bridges with her cousins she had neglected Scorpius, and when she had focused on her friendship with him she had committed the converse. She needed Violet, perhaps until this moment she had not realised quite how much.

At breakfast she did not see Scorpius, and Rose did not have the heart to ask Anwen if she knew where he was. Instead she followed Violet quietly to the Gryffindor table. James, Tommy, Louis and Fred were there and Frankie's absence was noticeable. Roxanne was sat next to Tommy, evidently making an effort to start conversation with him, though his eyes were trained on Aoife over at the other end of the Gryffindor table with Ella and Lauren. Violet sat down on the other side of Roxanne, as far from Fred as possible. It was only then that Rose recalled Violet's hesitance in discussing Fred yesterday and felt guilty for not paying any attention to it back in the dormitory. Rose watched as Violet made pains to talk to Roxanne and show Fred no attention, though his dark eyes glanced at her every now and then. It seemed everyone was in romantic trouble at the moment.

Rose kept turning to glance at the doors in the hope that Scorpius would appear, but he never did. Lily's arrival led to minor distraction. To her great surprise, Lily perched herself next to Rose with a friendly 'hi.' Rose turned to her, taken aback, and returned the greeting.

'I was probably harsh with you yesterday, sorry,' said Lily, in her smooth but powerful voice. Rose paused for a moment, unsure of what to say.

'It's fine. It was my fault.' Rose looked at Lily and saw her full, pink lips smile. Rose's smile was poorer.

'I heard that Grandma's having a get together next week. Sounds quite big, are you coming?' Lily's voice was again warm and true. She dwelt on arguments far less than Rose, who still felt unsure and looked at the rosy-cheeked, fiery-haired girl with trepidation.

'Yes, I'm coming. I haven't spoken to mum and dad or Hugo about it though, but I presume they'll be there.'

'Yeah, I hope Scorpius is ok facing the family,' Lily laughed and Rose's face fell.

'What?'

'Scorpius is coming,' said Lily.

'Why? What? Since when?' Rose's cheeks were flushed.

'Well, you invited him over yours next week, yes?' Rose had forgotten about that, but nodded accordingly. 'Then Grandma said she could only have it on Thursday, and I was speaking to Scorpius earlier and that's the same day as Anwen's dinner party that he's avoiding. So he's coming.'

'You were speaking to Scorpius earlier?' this thought had absorbed the shock that in one week Scorpius Malfoy would be meeting nearly the entire Weasley family.

'Just saw him in a corridor. I think he was going to the library,' she said. Rose instantly stood from the bench and with a quick 'thank you' and 'bye' set off to the library. As she left the Great Hall she saw a blob of red hair turn a corner and bump into her. She looked down to see Hugo. He eyed her coldly and she remembered their last interaction with a blush of shame.

'Hi, Hugo,' she said. He did not reply, but continued to stare. Rose remembered where she was heading and her heart was split. Talk to Hugo, or find Scorpius? She already knew what her choice was before the dilemma even formed in her mind. 'I-I'm sorry, Hugo, really. But I have to go.' As she turned, she saw him roll his eyes and turn back into the Hall. Apart from a small echo of sadness, Rose gave Hugo no other thought as she ascended the stairs and headed down a corridor. Scorpius alone occupied her mind. What would she say? Rose still hadn't thought through an excuse for her behaviour. She couldn't even bring herself to think it through. She just wanted to see him again. After thinking that he and Anwen were together, the thought of it being just the two of them again awoke a warmth in her chest that made everything else other than his presence, whether it be scolding or affectionate, crucial.

She came to the library door and took a deep breath before going in. She surveyed it and did not instantly see him, having to walk through a few rows of bookshelves to see the boy with shimmering hair hunched over the table, his head in his hands.

'Scorpius?' she said quietly, and he raised his head. His face was pale and his gaze dulled, though she could have sworn that his lip twitched to almost a smile upon seeing her. Then his expression resumed stillness and sadness pervaded his features.

'You can't keep doing this, Rose,' came his equally hushed reply. Pain rippled in her throat as she took the chair beside him.

'I know.' She placed her hand on his arm before thinking about it. He did not see her blush.

'I never know what's going on. One moment you seem to only want to hang out with me, and then you're gone,' he hung his head again and she felt her breath begin to catch and her vision obscured.

'I'm so sorry,' she allowed her head to fall to his shoulder.

He said nothing but she didn't expect him to. She closed her eyes and felt his soft robe against her face. From beneath it the warmth of his skin soothed her. Silence took hold. She allowed herself to be lost in the feeling of that single moment. The morning sun tumbled through the window and illuminated her eyelids. There was warmth and calm and the breeze of his breath on her wild hair.

Then the door creaked open and it was over. She raised her head from his shoulder and Scorpius shifted uncomfortably as a pair of chattering fourth years walked over to the nearest shelf. The silence was still there, but it was harsh and their eyes did not meet. Rose felt stupid for thinking he could like her back and cringed at the thought of how awkward he must have felt as she rested on him. She glanced at him and saw that he was looking at the table. This silence was intolerable.

'Yeah, erm- sorry again,' Rose said, stumbling through the sentence, 'Just had a rough time lately, you know?' He looked at her, his face stony.

'Why won't you tell me the real reason? Just say it.' His gaze held hers and her lips shivered on the edge of speech. She broke his gaze and muttered 'it's nothing' under her breath.

'You're coming to Grandma's next week?' she asked, and his eyes looked sad again.

'Apparently,' he said reluctantly. 'I mean, Lily said it would be fine. But I dunno-'

'Yes, it would be fine,' said Rose quickly, and there was a hint of a smile in his pale features again. 'Might be a bit scary though. Some of them are quite loud, mostly Lily and James, to be honest. But me and you can escape-' she paused, worried about the possible implication of her words. 'I mean I'm quite quiet then too, so we can just keep to ourselves.' He seemed amused at all of her jabbering, and she smiled slightly. He smiled back.

'C'mon,' he said, 'we better get to Potions now. Doubt Goldstein's forgiven you for bunking yesterday.'

They stood and wandered off to Potions in amiable conversation, though in Rose's heart lurked a quiet pain for what had been so close to being said, and what had been so close to being done.


	12. Grove Cottage

Her room had walls of sky blue. Several bookshelves lined the walls, some leather-bound and some sparkling in their newness. Beside a plain, single bed with blank white coverings, the only furniture was a small, pine desk and matching chair. The desk housed a few notebooks, several quills and copy of _Advanced Potions Making:_ _with alterations by Severus Snape_, which she was reading early in preparation for next year. On the wall, framed, was a photograph of her family – parents, herself and brother – taken around the time of her starting Hogwarts. A small girl with curly auburn hair that took over her appearance stared out. Her smile was pure and true, her mother's hand resting on her shoulder. She shared her father's pale blue eyes, while the smaller still boy beside her had ones of deepest chocolate, like their mother.

Currently, a far larger Rose was sat in the middle of the floor, tapping her fingers against the wooden boards. She was waiting anxiously for 3 o'clock to come, when Scorpius would arrive via the Floo Network. The Easter holidays prior to this had been spent uneventfully. While her brother had been out visiting his friends, Rose had largely remained at home, reading and staying quietly in her room. She had written one letter to Scorpius, and he had replied. The correspondence had gone like this:

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I hope you're enjoying the break and everything's fine at home. Take the Floo Network to my house at 3 o'clock on Thursday. Say "Grove Cottage, Tinworth" and you should be fine. I'll be waiting for you, and we'll head off to the Burrow about an hour later. _

_I promise you, my lot aren't that bad. Most of them are really nice, actually. And you'll get to meet my Uncle Harry – he's probably the nicest of them all, and not too loud. _

_Can't wait to see you,_

_Rose_

Two days later the reply had come:

_Dear Rose,_

_Thanks for the address and stuff, should be fine. It's a tad nerve-wracking but I'm sure it will be a laugh – and pretty cool to meet the great Harry Potter (Dad would kill me if he saw that). _

_Things are ok here. Haven't seen Dad much, not sure where he is. But Mum's been hanging around a lot and is being alright. They know I'm coming over on Thursday and Mum's fine with it but Dad's a bit dodgy obviously. You should've seen his face when I told him! But stuff him; he can't do anything. _

_Can't wait to see you too – it's been so boring here,_

_Scorps _

The reply had made Rose grin and wonder about the truth in his words that he couldn't wait to see her. She thought about it again now and smiled. Looking over to her desk, she saw an old, brown box tucked under it. Ever since the summer following her first year she had kept Scorpius' letters stashed away in there. And in that box, pristine on the top of the pile, lay the letter she was remembering so fondly now. Resolving that time went more slowly when waiting for it to pass, Rose descended the stairs.

The Weasley's home was a bizarre mix of clutter and quaint order, instilled by her parents' conflicting attitudes to housework. In one room shelves upon shelves of random objects could be seen piled, amongst them Chudley Cannon badges and an old Fanged Frisbee; while in another an oak table was neatly laid, with several shelves dotted around the room holding alphabetically ordered books or a vase of flowers. Rose walked through down the corridor, painted sky blue with family pictures hung here and there. The sun was bright through the windows and the house had an aura of pleasant calm; the only noise being the rustle of her mother's papers from the living room.

It was to there that Rose now ventured. This room was almost overwhelmingly cosy, with the walls of deep burgundy and heavy curtains obscuring the penetrating sunlight. Her mother sat on a large, brown armchair, her hair tied back as she made notes on the book that was levitating in front of her.

Hermione Weasley was past 40 now and the years had not tamed her bushy brown hair. She wore a large red jumper and jeans, still preferring to wear muggle clothes at home for the sense of familiarity. She was a sort of pretty, though perhaps her features lacked the beauty of some, and merely were adequate, fitting together harmoniously but without the power to astound. Her gentle, chocolate brown eyes, now lined with the beginnings of crow's feet, rolled over the words before her. Her had always thought of Hermione as beautiful and strong, and still did.

Rose stepped quietly into the room and sat on the arm of her mother's chair. Hermione looked up at her daughter and smiled, then stroked the curly auburn hair.

'Where's Hugo?' asked Rose.

'He's gone to the park with Jacob, the muggle from across the road.'

'Ok, good,' she said, and received a '_be nice to your brother' _look from Hermione's stern eyes. 'I just don't want him being in the way when Scorpius gets here.'

'Are you alright, Rose?'

'Yes,' she replied but sighed, 'Just bored waiting.'

'You remind me of how I used to be waiting for your father's letters in the summer, worrying whether my last one had been too long and annoying,' said Hermione and smiled. Rose bowed her head slightly and pulled away from her mother's hand on her hair.

'We're not together, though,' she replied, her voice weighted by regret.

'Neither were we.' And with another smile Hermione collected her papers and walked from the room, her book floating after her. Rose slipped into the chair that her mother had sat in and watched stared at nothing in particular. She glanced at a clock on the wall and found the time to be quarter to 3. Her lip curled to a small smile. _Not long now._

She looked at the fire place before her and visualised the sudden roar of flame that would signal his arrival. She imagined the tall, thin figure stepping from it, his grey eyes meeting hers with a true smile. Her thoughts slid further into day dream and she tried to recall the feel of his hand in hers, of her cheek rested against his shirt, and then imagined his lips on hers, his hands in her hair and at her waist… But she snapped back to reality and the fireplace was empty. Then the pain came again, that constant pain of knowing it was just a dream and in all likelihood would remain so forever. But there was always that hope, that flicker of candlelight in an otherwise dark, cold house. Enough light for her to see possibility and cling to it, even if it burnt her.

Rose stood and turned to the mirror on the other side of the room. It was full-body and ornate, with patterned gold around the outside – an heirloom following the death of Great-Great-Aunt Muriel.

Rose observed her blue robes. Were they boring? She'd chosen them over the red. Perhaps the red would have been better. Then she looked at the hair. It was fairly wild, as always. Perhaps she should have asked her mum to perform a straightening charm. Then she looked at her face. It was similar to her mother's, with the same acceptable features and slightly square face, though her eyes were a very pale blue, just like her father's. She was pale and freckles littered her face; freckles that she hated, though her mum had always told her that they were beautiful.

She decided that her appearance was much as it always was, and there was little she could do about it now. She would never be pretty enough to deserve Scorpius, the ice-haired Adonis whose rose lips she longed for.

The fire roared behind her.


	13. The Bedroom

He stepped out from the flames as glorious as she had imagined him. And as she had dreamed, the smile came, pearly and true. He was dressed in smart black robes with his hair neatly parted. It was odd for Rose to see, for Scorpius was always far scruffier at school. He walked quickly towards her and wrapped her in his arms; Rose melted into them with a blush. Never would he understand what these moments meant to her. When they pulled apart she smiled up at his ivory face and he returned it.

'You have no idea how glad I am to be here!' he declared, holding her shoulders and she revelled in his gentle grip. He released her and she almost felt a tad dizzy. 'Father hasn't spoken to me all day because I've come here – which is a good thing really. And I managed to completely avoid Anwen.' Rose was cheered to hear the final addition.

It was only now that Scorpius seemed to become aware of his surroundings and surveyed the warmly-coloured room. 'Nice place,' he smiled, 'very you - especially all the books.' He walked around the edge of the room, running his fingers along the spines of the leather-bound volumes.

'I don't even read that much,' she argued.

'More than me.'

At this point the door opened and Hermione poked her head round.

'I thought I heard you arrive,' she stepped into the room and smiled at Scorpius, who seemed pleased, if somewhat surprised, by this reaction.

'Hello, Mrs Weasley.'

'I'll leave you two to it,' she said, 'just call me if you want anything.' With this, Hermione left the room and her footsteps vanished down the corridor.

Rose and Scorpius stood in silence for a moment. They smiled warmly at each other but total harmony was marred by a slightly uncomfortable tension in the air. Looking at his pink lips, Rose recalled how she had imagined there touch and felt her cheeks grow slightly warm. He looked back and Rose wondered what his own thoughts on her were.

'Are you going to show me around then?' he asked playfully.

'Oh, yes, of course,' she said, roused from her thoughts. 'This is the living room, as you probably guessed.'

'I like it,' he said, 'it looks warm – all the rooms at the Manor are monochrome.'

She led him out of the room and down the corridor. She noticed how he looked around with a kind of wonder, apparently adoring all the details from the miniscule people in the family photos as they giggled and smiled, to the old, battered Chudley Cannon figurines that whizzed through the sky around their box. He showed similar interest in the open and breezy, forest green dining room; the small but homely kitchen and the small grove that lay in the garden, with its blooming apple trees and old rope swing that hung by a pond, little flashes of gold indicating the life beneath. They went up the stairs, with more family photos lining the wall. Rose looked over her shoulder to see Scorpius paused at one that was solely of her. Taken only months previously, the Rose of the picture was reluctant to smile, glancing from side to side almost nervously, before her gaze paused on him and radiated a silent sadness. Rose wondered whether Scorpius could see the sorrow in those shimmering eyes of blue.

'C'mon, she said quietly. He nodded and smiled, then followed her up the rest of the staircase. The next door they came to was one of bare wood. Engraved in it was 'ROSE' in delicate calligraphy, along with the predictable depiction of the flower besides the writing. She opened the door, and Scorpius peered around to see the blue room fully.

'It's quite plain,' he said, 'but I love it. It's pretty.' Rose didn't really know what he was talking about, though she agreed that plain was certainly the fair description. Scorpius walked into the room and spun round, apparently revelling in his surroundings. Rose followed him and shut the door behind her. 'Rose, I love it here. It's so beautiful! I probably sound crazy but I'm so used to being locked up in my horrible old place. This is full of colour and light – and happiness!' Rose couldn't decide whether to be amused by his enthusiasm or to just enjoy watching him twirl in the beautiful amber light that tore through her curtains and drenched him.

'I'm glad you like it,' she said, and sat on her bed. He spun to look at her and grinned.

'When I get home I'm redecorating my bedroom – something more like this. My parents won't like it so I'll have to do it the muggle way, but it'll be fun. You could always help me?' He suggested, tilting his head.

'At your house? Meet your family?' Rose felt a mix of excitement at the invitation and terror at the prospect of meeting the Malfoys.

'If you wanted,' his voice was weak and, though she may have imagined it, nervous.

'Yes, I want.' She smiled and he bounced slightly on the spot, almost bouncing to sit next to her on the bed. She looked straight at his face, close now, and felt again the waves of that overwhelming urge to touch him and have him closer still. 'I'm so glad things are back to normal. I've missed you so much.' He looked at her intently.

'I've missed you too.' The urge was almost overpowering. She felt her chin begin to tilt towards him but stopped herself before it was noticeable. He stroked her arm and held her towards him in an almost-hug. 'I don't think I've ever been as close to anyone as I am to you.'

She couldn't help but allow a gasp to escape her at the words and tried to blink back the tears that now prickled at her eyes. She rested her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around her. They heard the door open and close downstairs and the distant murmur of conversation, but they ignored it. He turned his face so that he could see her as she leant on him. Her eyes flicked to his and he raised his hand to her cheek. The sun glittered behind him and gave him a halo of golden light. She could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and comforting. She drew nearer now, no longer disguising her intention.

'ROSE!' her father bellowed from downstairs. They jumped apart, startled. 'GET DOWN HERE!' Without a moment to process what had happened, or regret that it had not been fulfilled, Rose stood up and headed downstairs and Scorpius followed her. They did not exchange a word.

Arriving at the landing, she saw her father standing at the door in his work robes. Ron Weasley's red hair was receding a little now, but his face retained its youth in its habitual playful chirpiness, which had now been replaced by flustered anger.

'What were you doing up there?' he demanded and Rose squirmed with embarrassment. Ron's accusing eyes did not look at her, but firmly at Scorpius.

'I was showing him around.' Rose made her annoyance clear in her voice.

'Oh, Ron, stop overreacting!' said her mother, walking in from the kitchen.

'I'm not overreacting, Hermione. But Rose is 16, far too young to have a boy in her bedroom!'

Rose met Scorpius' eye and found that he was as red as her.

'Oh, stop it,' said Hermione, 'You and Lavender Brown were all over each other at her age.'

'That's not the point – I was far more mature.'

Rose indicated the living room to Scorpius and the pair sloped off quietly, allowing her parents to bicker in peace. They came to a rest on the sofa and there was a moment of silence as they both acknowledged the awkwardness instilled by her father's interruption and subsequent suspicions.

'Sorry about that,' she muttered quietly.

'No worries,' he said, the blush fading from his cheek.

Rose knew that they would not resume where they had broken off. Even if it were not for the presence of her parents metres away, the air had changed and the moment in which they had lost themselves was now definitively over. Rose thought regretfully whether such an opportunity would ever re-emerge.

Hermione stuck her bushy head around the door. 'We better get ready to go now.' Ron followed her in, not meeting Scorpius' eye and the newly-arrived Hugo trailed behind him. It was Hermione who first went into the fireplace, taking a handful of powder and saying 'THE BURROW' clearly. A green flame immersed her and then she was gone. Hugo went next, before Ron followed quickly.

'Is it the Burrow?' Scorpius asked, stepping into the fireplace. Rose nodded and soon Scorpius had vanished into the flames. For a moment Rose stood in the empty room and felt the butterflies fluttering away in her stomach – they had not stopped since Scorpius had arrived – and took a deep breath. She too stepped in, declared 'THE BURROW' and vanished.


	14. The Burrow

With a thud, her feet landed on hard ground and the rush of soot into her mouth made her cough. Straightening up, Rose opened her eyes to see the living room of the Burrow: warm, cluttered and homely. She stepped from the fireplace and smiled at Scorpius, who was looking considerably more nervous now; then to her mother, who gave her a smile. Hugo had already ran off out into the garden to join everyone else when Grandma and Grandad came through the door. Grandma was clutching a tray full of sausage rolls when she ran forward to kiss Ron and Hermione's cheeks.

'Hello, my dears!' she said with delight, before turning her warm embrace to Rose. Grandad followed her, grinning at and greeting them one by one.

'This is Scorpius Malfoy, who Ron told you about,' announced Hermione and there was a moment's pause. Rose saw her grandparents exchange a look before Grandad stepped forward.

'Good to meet you, my boy,' he said, and shook Scorpius' hand.

'Any friend of Rose's is a friend of ours,' said Grandma, smiling and holding out the tray of sausage rolls, which Scorpius politely declined. 'The others are all out in the garden – there's quite a few! Even Charlie's visiting from Romania. Percy and Audrey are coming later and Neville said he'll pop by with Frankie and Alice; Luna and Rolf might bring the twins over.'

Rose looked to Scorpius and saw the joy in his eyes at the kindness of her grandparents greeting. As they filed out into the garden, she could have sworn that she saw her mother mouth 'thanks' to Mr Weasley, who then nodded with a little smile.

As expected, the garden was buzzing with Weasley life. In the paddock, James, Fred, Louis, Roxanne and Lily could be seen attempting a miniature Quidditch game. They were watched by George, Angelina, Bill and Charlie, and Rose heard a laughing George shout, 'That was pants, Fred! I've seen Ron keep better.' Ron must have heard this, for he turned a shade redder.

Across the garden, Teddy and Victoire were floating around, chatting happily to everyone and showing off Victoire's small but intricate silver ring. Teddy was tall now at the age of 24, with his wavy turquoise hair falling into his pale blue eyes. He walked with his arm wrapped around the slender, beautiful Victoire's waist. She was not quite 22 and her shimmering, blonde hair fell past her shoulders. Her skin was pale, though housed the occasional light freckle, and her eyes were large and deeply blue.

Hugo had run off to watch the Quidditch match and Rose saw her mother's dark eyes scanning the garden, until she found who she was looking for with a smile of satisfaction. 'There they are,' she said happily to Ron and the couple wandered towards a bench where 3 people were sat. Rose followed and Scorpius did the same, though they hung back behind her parents.

'Harry,' said Hermione and hugged the black-haired, bespectacled man tightly. At the same time Ginny and Ron exchanged a warm smile and a cheek kiss.

'That raid today was a waste of time,' said Ron to Harry, 'just some kids mucking around with a few nasty hexes they heard at school.'

'At least I won't have to do a full report on it,' He smiled, and the 4 sunk back onto the bench and launched into conversation.

Albus stood next to his parents and smiled to both Rose and Scorpius.

'Nice Easter?' he asked.

'Yes, I'd say so. A bit uneventful,' Rose replied.

'Shall we go and watch the Quidditch?' Albus suggested, 'I don't know how they're managing it with only 5 players.'

'Scorpius could join in,' said Rose, turning to him. 'You're a great chaser at school.'

'I dunno,' he said quietly. 'I don't want to get in their way or anything…'

'No,' interjected Albus, 'it's a good idea. At least it will even things up a bit.'

Scorpius smiled and followed the pair over to the paddock. Upon seeing Rose and Albus, the observing Charlie turned and gave them a large hug. 'God, you two are massive - proper grown ups now!'

Rose had not seen her Uncle Charlie for several years and indeed missed him. In her childhood he had always been an idolised figure, with his dangerous job and adventures with dragons in far off lands. Now, looking through her almost-adult eyes, he was a short, stout man, a lot like any other, and Rose could not defeat the feeling that his pursuit of danger and adventure was childish and silly, and his life incomplete. She pushed the thought from her mind and looked up to her cousins whizzing through the air.

It would appear that seekers and beaters were eliminated, and their miniature match was a case of 3 chasers against 2. James, Fred and Louis against Roxanne and Lily. Currently, Lily had just snatched the Quaffle from her elder brother and was tearing through the air towards the goal posts. She was visibly faster than the others, though riding an old Firebolt compared to James' Stormstrike. She dodged them with ease and threw the Quaffle clear of Louis to score a fine goal. The score was now 40 – 10 to Lily and Roxanne, despite their being a player down and 3 years their opponents' junior.

'Very poor indeed,' chuckled George and Fred scowled from above.

'Let's see you do better then!' called the son with a lopsided smile. And a grin burst forth from George at the challenge.

'Bring it, young 'un. Your generation against our learned, if slightly old and tubby one. Whose in?'

Charlie was without hesitation, for he had been a fine seeker in his Hogwarts days. Angelina agreed and Albus had returned with Harry, Ginny and Ron, though Ron was somewhat more reluctant than the others.

'I dunno,' he said, 'I was pretty pants at Hogwarts.'

'Don't be stupid,' said Hermione encouragingly, 'Weasley is our king – remember?'

'You're still one short though,' pointed out Rose, and they all turned to Hermione.

'No, not in a million years. I've only ever touched a broom if forced and I don't plan to again.'

'Bill?' asked Ginny, but he shook his head. Despite his advancing years, Bill Weasley had never given up on his ponytail, though it was thinner and greying now.

'Far too old,' he said with a laugh.

They were stumped for a moment. The younger team now consisted of the 5 already playing and Teddy, who had been the Hufflepuff keeper in his school days, though his general clumsiness had not made him one of the best.

'There's one place left, Scorpius,' said Rose, but he seemed to shrink away a little in embarrassment, before glancing to James for approval. He nodded and Scorpius smiled thankfully. 'They like you,' said Rose quietly in his ear.

At that moment, there was a crack and the group turned around. There stood Neville, with the beautiful Frankie by his side, and the small Alice behind.

'Left Imelda with Hannah,' he said, explaining the absence of his youngest daughter. They looked at him with a spark or idea in their eyes and he shyed away. 'What is it?' he asked.

'Neville, my friend,' said Harry, coming forward and placing a hand on Neville's shoulder. 'We're a player short and thought that now might be a good time for you to try your hand at Quidditch. No time like the present.'

There was a sort of terror in Neville's expression. 'No way, Harry. I haven't been on a broom since I was 11 and that was a disaster.'

'C'mon, mate,' said Ron, 'do it for us.'

Neville paused and looked at Ginny pleadingly. She merely smiled and handed him a Nimbus 2001.

'If I die,' said Neville to Harry, 'it's all your fault.'

Rose looked back to Scorpius and saw him standing with James and Lily discussing who should play where. The 3 looked at ease with each other, and Rose for a moment wondered why either of them had ever felt nervous about Scorpius coming along. He and Lily joked easily and even James now showed no obvious apprehension.

'Who's seeking for the kids?' asked Ron, and Lily stepped forward. Fred had been willing to relinquish his usual position in order for young Lily to show off her instinctive skill.

'Well, it's got to be Harry or Ginny for us then,' said Charlie, 'Parent versus Child – this will be interesting.'

'Harry,' said Ginny, 'you haven't played for years. Let's see if you've lost your magic.'

'Yeah,' agreed Ron, 'plus, Ginny used to be professional, so Harry's a bit fairer.'

Harry exchanged an amused look with his 13-year-old daughter. 'Scared?' she asked.

'A little,' he winked and they both mounted their brooms. Lily's launch into the air was quick and graceful; she got higher and corkscrewed across the paddock.

'Be careful!' called Harry, who wobbled slightly upon first taking to the air, but was soon flying as smoothly as ever.

On the ground, Rose turned to Scorpius and grinned. 'Good luck,' she said.

'I'll need it,' he returned as he too glided into the air.

They were almost all in position now. Teddy and Ron took to their goal post, where both hovered somewhat uncertainly. James was barging into his father's side before the match had even started, earning him a sharp look from his mother who bobbed behind them.

It was only Neville stood on the ground now. He mounted the Nimbus tentatively with a look of sheer fear. His feet pushed off and he wobbled into the air, rising slowly and rocking from side to side. Eventually he reached the height of the others, but not before he had slipped and hung onto his broom upside down, with Ginny having to pull him the right way up.

Scorpius, in the air, had lost all his former timidity and was zooming around with Lily, the wind blowing his pale hair into a cloud around his head. Rose watched him from the ground with an absent-minded smile and thought he flew with a grace she could not find in the others.

'Youngsters ready?' asked Bill, and Lily nodded gleefully. 'Old folks ready?' and Harry responded with a nod. 'Then let the game BEGIN!'


	15. The Night

As the sun cast a dark orange glow over the house, a number of the party retreated inside. Albus remain on the doorstep, watching the small Scamander twins – recently turned 6 – making daisy petals spin around their heads. Quiet was the overwhelming noise of the garden, though tired, evening chatter floated over from the table where Bill, Charlie and George sat with their wives. A group of boys – James, Louis, Fred and the small Hugo tagging along – were still persistent in their flying as they glided through the cool air as if they would not stop unless wrenched from their brooms, or perhaps until adulthood stole them entirely.

Teddy and Victoire were cuddled on a rocking chair overlooking it all, with a blanket overlooking their entwined bodies. Her head fell lazily back onto his shoulder and his pale hand ran over her sparkling hair. To Albus they looked as though they could have been together a lifetime, with a cool understanding surrounding them and the need for words long perished.

Rose and Scorpius passed Albus on their way into the house. He had watched them wander in the sunset and had caught the looks thrown when the other's eyes were averted. They did not have the harmony of Teddy and Victoire. While the latter possessed the calming knowledge that all was said and affirmed, there was a tension between Rose and Scorpius built up of all the words that need voicing but as yet had not been.

Rose walked ahead of Scorpius as they headed towards the living room. 'You were great,' Rose said to him, 'I knew you'd win.'

'Thanks,' he smiled gratefully. 'But it was down to Lily really – she was amazing. She snatched the snitch from right under Harry's nose.'

They entered the living room. Ginny sat curled up on a large armchair with her daughter at her feet, her flaming hair against her mother's legs. Grandad was asleep in the opposing armchair and Dominique and Luna sat in two wooden chairs they had conjured.

Luna's wide, sparkling eyes were as filled with wonder as ever, and her dirty blonde hair as long and scraggly. The only sign of ageing was the slight lines on her face. She wore robes of lime green and had a necklace with had some sort of mushroom hung from the end.

Next to her was Dominique, who looked a lot like her elder sister, Victoire, facially. The only noticeable differences were that Dominique had a few more freckles and her blue eyes were a paler silvery-blue than the deeply coloured eyes of Victoire. Her hair was shorter too, in a neat blonde bob lining her jaw and while her sister wore silk robes of lilac, Dominique preferred a muggle jumper and jeans. She also possessed a beauty that warranted much attention, perhaps more as hers lacked the intimidating nature of Victoire's. She had eschewed all male interest, however, and had openly entered relationships with several girls since her Hogwarts days. Rose watched Dominique for a moment, liking the way the crackling fire lit her smooth, clear skin and brought orange flecks to her pale eyes.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat together on a heavily-cushioned sofa. The fingers of Ron and Hermione were locked in a manner that perfectly showed love that had not faded. Were Albus present, he could have noticed the extension of this old love to Harry. It was clear to someone who saw as Albus did that the three had been irrevocably bound many years before.

'I'm surprised Frankie turned up,' said Lily with a hint of bitterness, indicating that Frankie had fallen in her estimations since apparently breaking her eldest brother's heart.

'Neville said she took a lot of persuading,' said Ginny, 'I still don't understand what happened.'

'She probably cheated on him or something,' speculated Lily and Harry shook his head.

'We know Frankie; she's a nice girl,' he said and there were nods of agreement, though Lily looked unsure.

'I'm pretty sure it's nothing like that,' said Dominique's soft, musical voice, though her eyes betrayed knowledge of exactly what it was.

'It's pointless gossiping about it anyway,' continued Harry, 'they're kids – they'll work it out.'

'Yeah,' agreed Ron, 'remember when you set a flock of birds on me?' Hermione smiled at the memory.

'You deserved it,' she laughed.

'I didn't.'

'You did,' Harry and Ginny said at the same time, before all four of them laughed.

'My mum told me that when she first got with my Father, she transfigured him into a rat during a fight,' laughed Scorpius.

Ron burst into laughter. 'No offence but Draco Malfoy as a rat is pretty classic.'

'Although he's probably more accustomed to being a ferret,' said Harry and they all laughed again.

Scorpius smiled and Rose knew he felt the joy of acceptance. The group, old and young, talked and reminisced for hours over butterbeer and firewhisky. It was only Rose who did not speak, sitting in a corner as she always did, silent sipping her firewhisky. A quiet sadness weighed down on her, knowing that Scorpius seemed already to fit in more easily with her family than she did.

No one noticed when she slipped from the room and into the next. In the quiet room, her room, as it now felt, she sat in front of a fireplace that had no flame and stared. Her head spun slightly and it scared her a little, so she gulped down the rest of her firewhisky with speed. Night had fallen completely now and she looked down to see her hands illuminated to a whitish blue.

She listened and his voice floated in from the other room in its confident, conversational manner. She heard laugh and response and the kind of warm hum that comes when confident people meet and talk.

She closed her eyes and felt the room spinning under her feet. Images from the day flashed before her eyes. Albus on the step with the twins… Scorpius' face approaching hers… Her father's flustered anger as they came downstairs… Dominique's tuneful laugh… Her mother's knowing smile… Lily's glorious, shimmering hair against Ginny's legs… The orange glow of the sun on the pond… Teddy launching the Quaffle past her dad and into the hoop, turquoise hair twirling around his face… Then Scorpius' hard, steel glare, nearer than ever before.

'Rose?' came the only voice she wished to hear. She turned to the door and he stood there. He too was pale and blue in the moonlight. Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy took a place next to Rose, in the dark of the extinguished fireplace, and did not say anything.

'I think I'm a bit drunk,' she said with a giggle and, noticing the slight slur in her voice, realised that she had not spoken in hours. Scorpius smirked.

'I think you might be too.' They sat in silence again, though she rested her head on his shoulder. He allowed it to stay there. 'I like your family,' he continued.

'I know. You seem to get on with them a damn sight better than I do.' He shook his head and her position on her shoulder stopped her from seeing him roll his eyes.

'Rose, you're allowed to be shy. They don't love you any less because of it.'

'Says you.'

'Yes, says me,' he laughed and shrugged her off. She looked for a moment as if she might cry, so he squeezed her hand to show he had been joking. Her smile returned and she swayed slightly.

'Can we go home now?' she said quietly, looking at him in a way that would be fierce if her eyes weren't glazed over. His breath halted slightly as he looked back, then he smiled.

'You need to get to bed. I'll go and get your parents, then I'll go home,' he said, standing up to fetch them.

'No,' she protested and he paused, 'they're enjoying themselves. Let's just go back to mine. We could hang out for a bit then you can take the Floo Network home.' He looked at her for a moment.

'Yeah, I'll come with you to make sure you're ok. But it's late; you need some sleep and I told my mother I'd be back by now.' But it seemed that Rose had only 'yeah', for she stood up quickly in her glee and almost toppled over. He grabbed her arm and she laughed, leaning against him.

She righted herself and stepped into the fireplace, taking a handful of powder from the pot at its side.

'GROVE COTTAGE,' she said, managing not to slur and vanished in the bright flames.


	16. The Phantom

Rose tottered into the dark living room and waited for her eyes to adjust, tripping over the leg of a table on her way. It was cooler here than it had been at the Burrow, and she felt goosebumps ripple on her skin. A moment later the fire roared again and Scorpius stepped out. She felt the familiar rush that she always did when he entered a room. Her heart thundered with anticipation. To be with him – alone, truly alone – was what she had been waiting for all night. Now he stood before her, though she could only make out his silhouette in the dark. Even that was strong and flawless. Underage and thus unable to use marriage, he took a match from the mantelpiece and lit several candles. This gave the room a dark glow that lit his pale face from beneath and made his eyes sparkle. He then approached Rose with a smile.

'I should go, now that you're back fine.'

'Stay a little longer,' she said with a wonky smile and sat back on the sofa. He sat next to her and watched her face as she leant back, yawned and closed her eyes. The tiredness overtook her now, wrapping her in its warm blanket of calm, and before she was aware of it she was floating away.

'You're tired,' he said quietly and she shook her head in protest, and with visible effort opened her eyes and straightened up. They looked at each other in silence. Her intoxication and the general looseness granted by dull lighting and night time allowed the elongated stare to lack all awkwardness. She watched his chest rise and fall at a slow, gentle pace. She extended a pale hand to his face and giggled drunkenly. 'You really need to sleep,' he said, and his voice was as smooth as the trickle of water to her ear. Rose shook her head and it continued to wobble as she bit in her lip. For a moment Scorpius looked as though he might laugh, not knowing whether this was her drunken attempt at seduction. She wrapped her other hand around his neck and the rise and fall of his chest sped up again.

With inhibitions almost gone, Rose was left overwhelmed by the long-felt need to touch him and now had the ability to put this freely into action. He looked more beautiful than she had ever seen him; his skin softer, his eyes brighter, his lips rosier.

'Stay with me tonight,' she said very gently, and he paused. He could hear her voice strain to be appealing. Strain for the same relaxed musicality of Dominique's or Lily's or Anwen's – but she failed. Her voice did not rise and fall, it did not lure him in and promise him eternal love with every syllable. It was the voice of a friend – a pretty and loyal one, but indefinably one of a friend.

His lips trembled on the edge of speech as she brought his face nearer to hers. Rose knew that this was a moment of monumental importance, the moment she had been waiting for for so long, and though she felt her thundering heart and the whip of butterflies in her stomach, she somehow felt apart from it all – as if she were watching a scene from a dream. But she moved ever closer to him, growing warmer with the glow that seemed to radiate from his proximity.

'Not like this,' he said suddenly, pulling away from her and standing up. The illusion was broken again. Her face fell blank, then was overcome with great sadness. He winced. 'You're drunk, Rose. I don't know whether you mean this or not. You just need some sleep.' Her lower lip trembled as if she might cry, but then her expression changed and her eyes narrowed. For a moment he was hit by her ferocious beauty: her wild hair, now free and out of place; her strong, forceful jaw; her face and neck strewn with delicate freckles; and her pale eyes, now glittering with tears of resentment.

Rose stood and wobbled on the spot. He went to hold her up but she shrugged him off. The look she shot him was one of venom.

'Like I care,' she said quickly, though her voice still wobbled with emotion. 'I never even liked you anyway.' Her words were mixed and slurred, but still had the same impact as they hit his ears. He took a step back and looked at her mournfully. 'I was only joking about trying to kiss you!' she snapped, entirely falsely, though he thought she may be truthful, with the insecurity that is natural when romantic feelings go undeclared. He looked as if he were going to speak, but then it seemed to dawn on him that he could say nothing true of any consequence, so he shut his mouth. Her cheeks were red with a mixture of alcohol and humiliation. He thought it strange that he should only notice quite how beautiful she was now. 'You can go,' she said coldly and turned away from him. The room seemed darker to him when she turned away.

Scorpius too felt like he was only watching the scene and was powerless to change it. She walked away and he was a phantom, intruding on her private anguish. He said nothing as she stormed from the room and up the stairs, slurring under her breath and wobbling as she walked. Then he was very much alone, so much that the room itself seemed to reject him. He stood there for a moment as the candles began to burn out and he was left in total darkness. Scorpius cast a last desolate look at the point on the stairs where she had vanished, and then he left.


	17. Malfoy Manor

The morning came with grey skies. They cast cold, harsh light over Scorpius' colourless but ornate bedroom. His eyes, coloured like the sky, opened reluctantly and he did not move for several minutes. It was after those few minutes that he remembered the events of the night before, and it was if a weight crashed onto his chest. Anyone else would have known she was joking, and so did Scorpius really, but there was still that niggling doubt, that insecurity.

His bedroom was vast. The walls were all purest white, as if they had been enchanted to glow as bright as a Unicorn's coat. At the foot of his four-poster bed was a great fireplace, with a prominent M carved into the mantelpiece. In contrast to Rose's home, the only family picture to be found was a large portrait hung over the fireplace.

It showed a tall man, almost handsome, perhaps, were it not for his sour expression and rather pointed face. He was pallid and thin, with white-blond hair brushed back from his rather lined face for someone who was not yet 30. His hand stroked the shoulder of a statuesque woman of notable beauty. Her silky dark hair rolled down the back of her elegant grey robes. Her eyes were clear and blue, and they stared out of the portrait with a kind of ferocity, or glanced down at the toddler on her lap with a gentle but protective gaze. It was a reserved child, not laughing or gurgling, but looking out just like his mother, the only movement being the occasional blink. The child was Scorpius, already resembling his father at such a young age with his shock of pale hair and steely grey eyes. His only noticeable inheritance from his mother were a nose and mouth that, when mixed with his father's eyes and pointed face, made him incredibly good-looking. Over the years his attractiveness had merely grown until he was the handsome young man sprawled on his luxurious bed.

In truth, were it not for the wide distaste for his family name in the Wizarding world, Scorpius Malfoy could have had anything he wanted, and indeed anyone. Had his name been anything other, perhaps the girls of all other houses spare his own would have flocked around him instead of the likes of Albus and James. That he was better looking could not be denied, and some might say he was equally pure of heart, if not more so than the loutish James, but he had a cold edge that set him apart and made him distant. The insecurity that now came with being a Malfoy, coupled with his air of hauteur, made him quite remote and in that first year at Hogwarts had led to a tentative friendship with that Ravenclaw – bright and unsure and quietly pretty – Rose Weasley.

Or perhaps it was something else that made him not as appealing as the warm Gryffindors under their scarlet banner. Perhaps it was the cold in the heart of one brought up in a big, empty house. Malfoy Manor was an awfully large place for 5 people, and the Malfoy parents had never quite had enough warmth and love to fill it. Certainly, his grandparents scarcely helped, spending most of their days sitting quietly together and scarcely exchanging a word. Draco and Astoria loved their son, true, but they didn't like his charming confidence and compassionate nature. They didn't like that he was not like them – that he had joined the rest of the world looking down on their pale, broken sort of bigotry.

'Scorpius?' said a firm voice from outside the bedroom and he dragged himself to a sitting position.

'Yes?'

The door creaked open. Draco entered, tall and thin, with hollow cheeks, pointed, harsh features and pale as the moon. He ebony robes were neat and his light, receding hair combed back from his lined face.

'You ought to be up by now. It's nearly midday.' His voice was measured but noticeably cold.

'Give me a break. I didn't get in until 1,' retorted Scorpius, dropping back onto his bed.

'And that is no one's fault but your own.'

'It was worth it,' the boy sneered. 'I met Harry Potter - great bloke, actually, really lovely man. So were Mr and Mrs Weasley – Rose's parents, but you know that of course.' Something in Draco's face twitched uncomfortably. 'Not people you'd really want to hand over to Voldemort, y'know?'

'You'd dare talk to me like that?' There was warning in his voice but Scorpius did not take heed.

'Oh, I really would. And I didn't know you used to be a ferret!'

'Shut your mouth, boy,' he breathed. 'You know _nothing_ about what went on then, alright? And I don't need you getting all righteous about it because of that stupid little crush of yours.'

Scorpius looked at him. Their identical grey eyes bore into each other. 'I don't care what you want. And don't you _ever_ call her stupid. I have a lot more love and respect for Rose than I ever will for you.'

For a moment Draco looked less furious, and perhaps there was a hint of resigned disappointment in those scarcely readable eyes.

'Those Potters and Weasleys,' he spat finally, 'you think they'll ever care about you? They're too good for you, boy. They will chew you up and spit you out.' With that he slammed the door shut and Scorpius was again left sprawled on the bed. He was in silence of a moment, shaking with fury.

'LYING BASTARD!' he screamed finally, thumping his fists against the mattress, but apparently his father did not hear. Scorpius' breath shook for a few minutes as the rage ebbed from his body and he returned to calm.

The last night's events still weighed heavily on his mind, and his father's scorn just pushed his despair to further depths. The Manor around him felt a great prison.

Forcing himself from bed, Scorpius sat down at his large white desk, laden with quill and parchment. Without a pause of thought, he quickly scribbled down these words:

_Rose,_

_I'm so sorry about what happened last night. I thought you wouldn't know what you really wanted in that state and felt I was taking advantage – plus, your dad would have murdered me if he came back. But seriously, we should talk about everything. It feels like we need to. _

Then he paused in his writing and put his head in his hands. For several minutes he remained there in silence, feeling thoroughly dreadful. When he raised his eyes, he took the parchment into his hands and tore it in two. He stopped again, stroking his jawline with the end of the quill, then wrote again, but more slowly:

_Dear Lily,_

_I hope you enjoyed last night. I did. _

_I'm really worried about stuff with Rose and didn't know who else to talk to. You were a great help at school so I thought you might have an idea what to do._

He went on to explain the events of the previous day, before signing off:

_Please reply ASAP. Thanks so much,_

_Scorpius_

He stared at the note for a few minutes before deciding it would do. It was true that at school Lily had indeed helped. She had comforted him when Rose had inexplicably cut him off, and since then their friendship seemed to have blossomed to the point where she was a ready consultant on all things female.

He did like Lily, though he often noted that she lacked the depth and intelligence of Rose. Yes, Lily could look very pretty on a broomstick, but he couldn't imagine being able to spend hours discussing the more interesting aspects of potion-making or Arithmancy as he did with Rose. And she may be incredibly thoughtful whilst retaining cheer and joy, but the never-ending joy occasionally grated on Scorpius just as it did on Rose. How on earth could individuals as lonely and bewildered as themselves find harmony with someone as brazen and complete as Lily? So while she may have lacked the significance of Rose, to Scorpius Lily was a sharp and dependable friend, ready with careless wit and well-intentioned advice whenever it was needed.

Scorpius took the note and gave it to Cronus, his ageing barn owl. The bird's eyes looked up at Scorpius with what looked like annoyance, before it spread its wings and swooped from his bedroom window.


	18. Perfect Lily

This bedroom was as far from Scorpius Malfoy's as possible. The walls were painted vibrant purple and immersed in Permanent-Sticking posters of her mother's successor as the Holyhead Harpies' seeker, Jade Scratchbert and her favourite band, _The Centaurs. _Her bed was raised off the ground, with drawers under it functioning as a wardrobe, and because of this she could sit for long hours on warm afternoons such as this and watch over the village of Upper Flagley, with its winding country roads and endless expanses of green.

It was to this activity that Lily Potter dedicated herself at present. She had been driven from the living room by James' insistence on listening to the commentary on the Puddlemere United vs Tutshill Tornadoes match in which she had no interest. Albus too had sought the sanctuary of his bedroom to revise for his OWLs; but with no exams of much consequence to work for, and no Harpies game for another week, here Lily sat.

Her own mind had been rather calm of late. The rush of warm weather from winter to spring had brought with it a lightness to life full of the promise of long, warm evenings.

She noticed the speck on the horizon almost as soon as it had come into view. The pink sky was fading to evening when a black dot appeared over the hill by the church. It got larger until she could make out wings, and then a small envelope in its beak. It was an owl, she observed and supposed that it was for one of her parents. But when it came over the bridge over the brook that ran across the landscape, she recognised it as a fine barn owl by the name of Cronus. He swooped elegantly through the window and dropped the letter on her lap before coming to a rest on the edge of her bed. He inclined his head to her hand and she stroked it softly.

Lily ripped open the letter in urgency, for Scorpius had not written to her before. She read it slowly, her large, brown eyes absorbing every word. Having finished, she muttered 'reply ASAP' under her breath before a smile lit her face.

'C'mon Cronus,' she addressed the owl with a smirk, 'we can do better than that.'

Lily left the room and ran downstairs, with Cronus fluttering after her. Most of the walls of this house were vibrantly painted and it sung of life and brightness. She halted as she reached the living room to see only James present, still curled up in a large armchair listening to the radio.

'Where're you going?' he asked lazily, his hand running through his messy dark hair.

'Out,' she said and picked up a handful of Floo Powder. She beckoned to Cronus and he came to a rest on her shoulder.

'What's with the owl?' James asked, now looking perplexed. But she had been immersed in flames before she could reply.

She spun into Scorpius' bedroom with her hair wild around her head and looking somewhat ruffled. The first thing she noticed was the grandness of the bedroom, and mouth 'wow' and she craned her neck to take in every detail. The next thing she noticed was Scorpius, who had been sat on his bed reading, jumping up with an expression of bewilderment. Cronus instantly flapped from Lily's shoulder to his perch on the desk.

'What are you-?'

'Well you said reply ASAP. I thought this was the quickest way.' Her smile was filled with daring and sureness, such that Scorpius had never seen in a human face before. It made him sure too.

She walked to the bed with a vivacity that was almost a skip and sat beside him with the lightness of an angel. He thought it odd to see that the bed sank to accommodate her weight, for she seemed so unreal to have appeared as such. It came to mind that perhaps it was her spirit that bent the bed's will, rather than her body. Never was there a girl that showed one so violently the furious passion of living in the way she walked, the flick of her hair, and that confident smile that knew the nature of reality and was satisfied by it.

Perhaps here it would do to remind the reader that this is a story of perspectives. I do try my best to withhold my own views on these people, and rather merely transmit the way they are seen by the person's consciousness that I presently inhabit. Perhaps you have already guessed why Rose sees Lily as the perfect being, and maybe one day you will understand Scorpius too.

Lily is not perfect. Lily knows this very well.

'She hates me, Kid,' he said sadly, sinking back against the wall. She leant back with him, her jean-clad legs lain out along the bed and crossed.

'Na, she doesn't. She's embarrassed. And don't call me kid.' His head sunk into his long, pale hands.

'I'm an idiot.'

'Debatable,' she muttered with a momentary expression of contemplation. 'But you love her. So you're an idiot in love. That's more permissible.'

'Love? I _like _her, just in a lovey way.'

She watched him and he really did look desperate. His brow had curled into a set look helplessness and guilt. He was still wearing the clothes he had worn at the Burrow, and they looked slept-in with their creases.

'Scorpius,' she said more gently, placing her hand on his shoulder. He noticed that her nails were painted canary yellow. 'You really don't need to worry. She'll calm down.'

'You don't know that,' he sighed.

'Yes, I do! I've known her since I was born. Rose is useless at grudges, especially with you.' At those words Scorpius' head jerked sideways to look at her.

'What do you mean, 'especially with me'?'

Lily smiled.

'That would be telling.'

'Lily,' he warned, his face darkening. 'Don't mess about, this is life and death.'

'Life and death?' she laughed.

'Well, not life and death, but pretty much the same thing. Please, Lils.'

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed slightly. His, far lighter than hers, pleaded desperately.

'Talk to her, Scorpius. Please.' She stood up and left his line of vision, for his eyes remained frozen where hers had been. 'It _will _be fine. It will. Bye.'

His reply was weak. Still did he not look when the fire roared and she was gone. He allowed his body to slip down until he lay limply. Light was fading quickly and made him more pallid than he had been before. She had failed him, his one true ally in this battle for his Rose. She had not granted him the perfect and fool-proof solution he had expected of her.

_Talk_ to her.

_No_, he thought defiantly. He would not risk seeing those scolding eyes again. Not again.


	19. At Night

The day had been long. Rose had fallen asleep under a cloudy sky and awoke having not seen a single star. But it had been dark. Every time her eyes opened the sky refused to lighten, until she began to doubt that the sun had ever existed at all. She did not long dwell on this thought before collapsing again into uneasy sleep.

At 5 am, having woken for the tenth time, and still seeing only a pale glimmer over the distant hills, she resolved that sleep was not her friend tonight, and relented. For 20 minutes straight she did not move, but sat there, her ruffled, reddish-brown hair - looking so accustomed to movement - mournfully still, along with her dim, muddy eyes.

But soon she had to move in order for there to be any progression in her life, lest she sit in the dark forever, and the sun never rise again. The swept from the room as a spectre in the night, in her blue and white striped pyjamas, the kind worn by Wendy's brothers in the muggle story, _Peter Pan_, that her mother had read so frequently to her on the blurry childhood nights.

And perhaps it was in the spirit of those memories that she crept down the staircase and along the corridor, into the dining room with its long oak table, always perfectly laid, and rows of perfectly ordered bookshelves. She ran her long, pale fingers along the spines of her mother's muggle books, searching in the half-light for a title that could take her far away from her confusing world of broomsticks and wizards, especially ones with blond-hair and pointy faces, to a more sensible one where such things were only a part of the imagination, a fantasy without limits. Her eyes seemed to focus in on a rather old but thin book with a well-worn spine. She slipped it from the others and saw on the front a small brown bird, which Rose did not know to call a Nightingale, surrounded by the thick, thorned stem. Below, written in what imitated intricate, white handwriting, was _The Fairytales of Oscar Wilde. _

Rose could not pretend that she had heard of Wilde, for her knowledge of muggle literature truly did end with the name J M Barrie. She thought it a fine name though, _Oscar, _Rose had never known a person by that name, and it rolled off her tongue and into the night air with a comforting familiarity for something that she had not said before. For _Oscar, _to Rose, was a gentle name, and indeed a clever one, while _Wilde_ lingered in her mouth as her lips shaped around it, and left thinking that there had never been two names so astronomically different to start with the same letter than Wilde from Weasley, but at least, she thought, flicking through the aging pages and finding her name amongst them, they had the flower in common.

Perhaps you might think that I am divulging from plot here, taking a moment to enforce my own loves upon my character. But, dear reader, you would be so wrong. Rose needs to find a story of her own and thus it falls to me to give her one. This is important, Reader, so important. I give you my word.

And so Rose sat down at the oak table and at that instant began reading the little story with her name at the top. She read as the pale morning light drew nearer through the window. She read as the other birds that were not nightingales began their morning chorus. She read as her own eyes reddened and a tear or two trickled down her face.

When she had finished, she scanned again over the last few lines.

'_What a silly thing love is – not half as useful as logic,'_ she read out loud and never had she known the words to be so untrue.

To be fair on herself, Rose had never much valued her own logic above being thankful that she scarcely had to face her fear of failing tests, and never thought much of love above all that she felt for Scorpius, which she still didn't know whether she could label love. And now, as she sat alone in the quiet, pale morning, she knew she had a fair deal of both, and berated herself for never thinking of such things before.

Yes, knowledge had been important to her over the years, but never really outside the realms of her studies. Rose had never found a book amongst the magical ones that thought as this muggle story did, nor felt as it did either. How shameful it was to her that the wizarding world – a realm of true imagination and endless beauty and wonder for the muggles – had so little imagination itself. Where was a wizard play that had made her laugh? A wizard story that had made her cry? A wizard poem she wanted to learn off by heart and recite at will? There seemed nothing but her school textbooks and endless histories and studies.

What a silly thing logic is – not half as useful as love, thought Rose.


	20. Flowers

The day rolled over in idleness. Her parents had left for work early, and Hugo to stay with Alice Longbottom for the day, while Rose had remained largely in the dining room, working her way through all the stories in the little old book. She had shed several tears over the pages, and several more for Scorpius. Though the stories provided some release, the events of the previous night hung over her heavily. Even when Wilde lifted her far from the world, the stony feeling deep inside her chest weighed her down so that she was unable to fly freely.

After finishing _The Happy Prince_ an emotional Rose had considered writing to Scorpius, but the moment she began to think about what to say put off the idea. She didn't know where to start or what to do – she was torturously embarrassed and dreadfully sad in equal measure.

Her father had returned from work first. Rose had heard him crash through the front door in the late afternoon, when the sky faded to pink.

'Rose? Hermione?' he called, his deep voice echoing around the house.

'Mum's not in yet,' she replied, 'I'm in the dining room.' She was astounded by how empty her voice sounded, knowing it fully betrayed her sorrow.

She heard Ron put down his bag and poked his head of receding red hair around the door. He watched her for a moment and his expression sobered as he saw her reddened eyes.

'Is that the same book you were reading this morning?' he asked softly and Rose nodded. 'It must be interesting,' he murmured under his breath and stood there on the brink of speech, clearly awkward and not sure how to approach his emotional daughter. After a moment, and with a fairly hopeless look, wandered into the living room. She followed him in, setting down the book.

'It's a muggle book,' she told him, wanting to encourage conversation and set his mind at ease. He looked grateful.

'But isn't it a bit dull? You could always give it to Grandad Weasley.'

'It's brilliant actually, better than any magic book I've ever read.'

'Last book I read properly was Quidditch through the Ages about 30 years ago, so I can't say I can judge.' Rose laughed but in the back of her mind wasn't sure whether Ron was joking or not. Talented wizard though she knew he was, she had long been aware of her father's distaste for the academic.

'Maybe you should do a bit less reading and a bit more sleeping. No offence, my dear, but you look pretty rough.'

'Thanks, Dad,' she said and rolled her eyes, but knew it was true. Along with her restless night, the amount of firewhisky consumed the previous evening could not have helped matters. He smiled at her lopsidedly and patted down her bushy hair. He helped – made her better, healed a bit – like Dads should. She wandered upstairs somewhat comforted, though she wasn't quite sure why.

She lay back on her bed with its smooth, thick quilt and felt peaceful. The hurt continued in her heart but it was under control. She felt it, but it didn't bother her so much. Perhaps it was knowing that her father was downstairs, that she could only call and he would come, that he would do all her could to help her, that eased the pain.

And it was that calm that finally permitted sleep. Rose realised how every cell in her ached with tiredness and her eyelids sagged, letting through only the dimming light that cascaded through the window and onto her weary body.

A door slammed below…muffled voices up the stairs…her mother standing at her window, drawing the curtains…the pillow against her face…the door again…

'Rose? Rose?'

A loud, harsh voice hit her ears. She groaned and turned in her bed.

'C'mon you lazy cow,' came that voice again and Rose's eyes flickered unwillingly open. At first there was only a red blur and the unpleasantly piercing light in her face. The blurriness cleared and to her surprise, Rose found Lily perched on the edge of her bed, peering down at her with a smirk. Rose jumped up.

'What are you doing here? What's the time?' The world still felt hazy and confused. Rose closed her eyes to try and straighten her mind. Rose opened her eyes and looked out of the window, despite the bright light in her room, it was virtually dark now outside, the village hanging sleepily before her, only the tip of the sun visible over the hills.

'It's only 7. I just wanted to see how things were with Scorpius.'

This confused Rose further. 'Scorpius? Why?'

Lily took a moment, before replying. 'I'm just curious. I want things to work out with you guys, y'know?'

Rose frowned and stood up. 'No I don't know. It's none of your business anyway. You don't have any reason to be here.'

Lily looked at Rose far too knowingly for comfort, then said slowly, 'I spoke to Scorpius; he told me what happened.' Rose froze on the spot in mortification.

'He had no right to.'

'Rose, he's in bits. He just wanted someone to confide in.' Lily's dark eyes seemed to plead with Rose for understanding. 'You should talk to him.'

Rose rolled her eyes. 'I don't want to. It's just embarrassing.'

Lily's expression hardened slightly, her set jaw fiercely resembled her mother's. 'So you're not even going to try?'

'You don't understand…' but Rose trailed off feebly. This seemed to strike Lily quite hard, for she joined Rose in standing and looked fierce.

'No, _you_ don't understand. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? To have someone who cares about you as much as he does? Thinks as much of you as he does? And you're going to waste it because of some stupid embarrassment that doesn't even matter.'

'Me? lucky?' said Rose incredulously. 'Compared to you with you legions of admirers?' Lily laughed out loud, throwing back her glorious mane of hair.

'Do you think a few cocky idiots care about me? They don't even know who I am. Do you really think my life is that easy?' there was a desperate fury in Lily's eyes that was alien to Rose. 'You're not the only one who's lonely, Rose.'

And there it was. Lily's wall had collapsed right in front of her. The beautiful, fierce girl, now reduced to rubble, slumped onto Rose's bed and let her head fall into her hands. At that moment Rose was struck by how old Lily seemed for someone who was not quite 14, older than Rose perhaps, who was 2 years her senior. Rose sat back down on the bed very gently and watched her. After a moment Lily sat up straight, composure regained, and looked vaguely around the room. The silence was impenetrable.

'Your hair got darker,' said Lily quite out of nowhere and Rose looked around to see a sort of mist in Lily's bright brown eyes. 'It used to be the same colour as mine, when we were little – now it's darker.'

Rose's reply was quiet and somewhat uncertain. 'Hair often gets darker as you get older. Mum says I have Grandad Granger's hair.'

They were silent again. Rose twirled a curl of red-brown hair around her index finger. Lily watched her. After a minute of so, Lily rolled her eyes and stood up.

'Right, I've had enough of this,' she declared and Rose almost jumped back in surprise. 'You're going to talk to him. You have to! This is all so pointless.'

Lily grabbed Rose's hand and pulled her off the bed. The suddenness of Lily's return to light-hearted jolliness seemed astounding.

'No, Lily, this isn't fair,' she mumbled hopelessly as Lily led her from the bedroom and down the stairs. 'He probably doesn't even want to talk to me.'

'He does,' said Lily with absolute conviction. 'He just doesn't know it yet.'

They entered the front room, where Ron sat pouring over a levitating map with small pins stuck into it. He looked up in surprise.

'Lily? When did you get here?'

'No time to talk, Unc. Rose's love life needs urgent attention.'

Ron seemed to not know quite what to say and turned slightly pink, before burying himself again in the map. Rose cringed inwardly.

Lily steered her into the fireplace but Rose looked at her pleadingly.

'I don't want to do this,' she said quietly, with genuine fear.

'If you didn't, you wouldn't have let me bring you down here,' said Lily equally gently, with a calming stroke of Rose's arm. Lily handed Rose some Floo Powder and stepped back. They exchanged a final look: Rose unsure, Lily encouraging.

'Malfoy Manor,' said Rose quickly and vanished into the fireplace.

'_Malfoy Manor?_' repeated Ron rather sourly. Lily turned to him with an amused smile.

'Yep, Rose's gone over to the dark side,' she teased and Ron shot her a look, before allowing a small smile and turning back to his work.

'Laters, Unc!' she said, hopping into the fireplace where Rose had gone.

'See you, Lils,' he replied without looking up, and only a loud crackle told him of Lily's departure. He seemed somewhere between smiling to himself and looking a tad troubled. But he quickly shook his head and strolled off to look for the radio, for the Chudley Cannon's last match of the season would be starting at any moment.

Back at the Potter's house, Lily ascended the stairs to her bedroom very quietly and watched the last of the sun vanish over the landscape, for – as Rose knew from another book her mother had once read to her, though Lily knew it not – when people are very sad they like sunsets.


	21. Malfoy Manor Again

Scorpius Malfoy sat in a vast room with blank, stone walls, a high, dark ceiling and an empty echo in the air. A vast fireplace lay in the centre of it, though it held no roaring flame nor emitted any warmth. Opposite the sofa in which he sat were two towering arm chairs.

The occupant of the first was a tall woman with white hair pulled tightly back, as pale as her ghostly skin. Her face was lined and though there was a well-worn weariness for her 67 years, she sat stiffly upright. Her former beauty was evident, but somehow wasted away, though there was a stern stoicism in her pale blue eyes that almost ordered respect.

Her husband sat next to her. He too looked older than his years, and was slightly hunched. His grey eyes, almost precisely the same as Scorpius', peered coldly at the floor. The top of his head was near bald. All of it that remained was a light silver.

'I've barely seen you in days, Scorpius,' said his grandmother, Narcissa, in a cold, clear voice. 'You've been up in that bedroom.'

'I've been working,' he said quietly, evading conversation.

'Too much work to spend time with your own family?' she asked bitterly. When he did not meet her eye, she muttered, 'I thought not.'

Then a horrible wailing took over the room. Narcissa winced and Scorpius covered his ears – Lucius scarcely reacted. It was a horrible, rasping sound, like someone shrieking as they fought for breath. An unnatural sound.

'Astoria, I thought you had that damned Pettigrew ghost under control?'

For Astoria Malfoy had just come through the large double-doors at the end of the room. She had an old-fashioned, serious beauty, with her chiselled features and statuesque figure. Her robes were a deep, midnight blue and they seemed to glide along the elaborate carpet as she strode towards the fireplace where they sat. She took a place next to Scorpius on the sofa.

'Sorry, Narcissa, but you've been trying to get rid of him since before I met Draco, so perhaps it's time we just accept that we can't do anything.' Narcissa looked displeased at this reply but Astoria did not take heed, for she turned quickly to her son. 'You're joining us for dinner then, Scorpius?' she said affectionately, a tender hand on his shoulder. He nodded.

His mother was the one member of his family that he felt some open affection for. His grandmother had a certain charm to her, were it not for her steely, hardened persona and deep-set faith in the blood bigotry that had faded to ridiculousness for most of the Wizarding World. And he loathed his grandfather, the broken man by the fire; not that Lucius said much at all anymore. Neither had been able to stomach the Malfoy fall from grace.

'It was never a question with Draco,' announced Narcissa. Astoria turned her head towards the old woman, slightly bewildered.

'What do you mean?'

'We would never _ask_ Draco if he was dining with us. _We _made the decisions in our house,' Narcissa's stern, blue gaze turned to Astoria, who bit her lip slightly but then let out a small, polite laugh.

'Very good manners I'm sure,' said Scorpius dryly. 'Did Voldemort appreciate your hospitality?'

Narcissa gasped as cold anger seeped into her face. Lucius had shuddered slightly at the mention of Voldemort, but made no other movements.

'You shouldn't talk to your Grandmother like that,' said Astoria, but her voice was far from anger. There was only the slightest reproach in her gentle tones.

'Astoria, you're being far too soft with the boy,' said Draco fiercely, appearing at Narcissa's shoulder, having just slipped into the room. 'You're insolent, you know that? _How dare_ _you_ talk to someone far older and wiser than yourself like that?'

'Wiser?' snapped Scorpius. 'Maybe if they were a bit wiser you wouldn't have to lie to them about whose house I went over the other night and who my friends are at school.'

Now Draco's face whitened in fury. '_You dare-_'

'Oh, I dare,' he sneered. 'You know my greatest friend in all the world is Rose Weasley – the perfect blend of blood traitor and mud-blood! Then there's her cousin Lily, Lily Potter. I believe you're acquainted with her father?'

'Draco,' came the creeping, cold voice of Lucius Malfoy, 'you let your only son mix with scum like that?

Scorpius stood up.

'I've had enough of this. I'm sick of you all. They're not scum. They're normal and happy and fun – not locked up in nasty old houses with all their bitterness and stupid superior beliefs.'

'If you hate it so much then you're welcome to leave,' said Narcissa coolly. Draco and Astoria exchanged a concerned look, but Narcissa continued to stare straight at Scorpius.

'I-' he stammered, his mind racing. He'd love to leave, of course he would, but where on earth could he go? Rose's, perhaps, but he knew that Ron wasn't sure of him, and though it was only for the weekend until they went back to school, he couldn't bring himself to ask. Lily's? No, he barely knew her family at all. With nothing left to do he turned and stormed up out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom.

'He's not going, is he?' said Draco quietly.

'Oh, don't heed the boy,' said Narcissa, 'He'll be crawling back by his bedtime.'

Scorpius felt his pulse beating in his head as he stalked the corridor towards his room. All there was, was a blur of fury and fear and confusion. _Wherever I end up is better than here_, he thought fiercely. So without ado, he grabbed pristine, black leather school trunk and piled in a few pairs of robes, jeans and jumpers. Scorpius ran to his bedside cabinet and grabbed a small bag of Galleons and Sickles.

_The Leaky Cauldron_, he thought. He could travel there by Floo Network, and if he was in London money would be no worry at all with his Gringotts vault so nearby. It was sorted then. He grabbed his case and Cronus' cage, just managing to hold onto both as he tucked his broom under his arm. But as he stepped towards the fireplace, there was a great roar of flames and a person flew towards him, knocking him off his feet. Cronus' cage was open, so the owl went flapping wildly and hooting around the room as the contents of his Hogwarts trunk spilled over the bedroom floor.

'What the-?'

'Sorry,' came a timid voice from the bundle of robes before him. Rose pulled up her head and gave Scorpius a tentative smile as her freckled cheeks reddened.


	22. Before the First Kiss

He looked down and her and felt nothing but irritation. His panic and fury was enough that Rose was not his priority now, and nor could he cope with another thing to try and sort out. All he could see was his grandmother's stuck-up expression, making Rose's face an object of anger with it.

'What are you doing here?' Scorpius demanded, rather more fiercely than Rose had been expecting. This threw her and she hurried to her feet.

'What's going on? Why have you got your school stuff?' she asked, peering around at the mess all over the room and the hooting Cronus returned to his perch on the desk.

His fury with his family would not abate, and now Rose was here asking stupid questions and only getting in the way. He looked at her derisively and rolled his eyes, whilst leaning down to pile his stuff back into the trunk.

'I hate not using magic,' he grumbled irritably and forced the trunk shut. Her lip moved to say something, to begin the conversation, but- 'I have to go. I'll explain later.' He pushed past her and her attempt to stand in his way was feeble. He threw her sideways like the air throws a feather.

Blinded by frustration and rage, he had forgotten the melancholy weight of the previous night, and forgot who Rose was altogether. That he needed her and had caused such despair so little time ago had slipped his mind.

But she had come for this to finally be sorted and would not leave now. She turned and grabbed his arm but he had already announced his destination. With a jerk Rose was pulled into the fireplace with him and she clamped her eyes shut. Her stomach twisted as her head spun and she felt as though the world was falling away from her. Then there was a loud crash and she landed on hard floor. She waited for the world to stop spinning before opening her eyes.

They had emerged in an empty fireplace in a small pub. The Leaky Cauldron was still buzzing with life at this late hour. Witches and wizards, young and old, wearing various degrees of eccentric clothing, huddled around tables or waited at the bar. Warm fires burnt in several corners, and several owls fluttered through the air.

Behind the bar stood a small, plump woman, with a vivid, rosy face and blonde hair down to her shoulders. Rose recognised her as Hannah Longbottom, wife of her parents' friend and her own Herbology Professor, Neville.

She looked back to Scorpius beside her and his face was far from rosy. His eyes bored into hers with an unstable anger that contorted his features, making his pointed face look harsher than usual and his paleness more out of place in the warm surroundings.

'Why did you follow me?' he asked coolly, but with an underlying ferocity.

At first she didn't say anything at all, before replying quietly, 'I want to talk to you.'

'If it's that important we can talk when I've got a room,' he said, approaching the bar.

Rose watched his exchange with Hannah. Even when talking to her he looked agitated and annoyed. Rose felt sadness ebb over her, her hopes of reconciliation were fading fast. Then there was anger, at herself for her selfishness, and not being more worried about why Scorpius had suddenly had to leave home. Had she ever seen this anger in him before? She could scarcely remember. Perhaps there had been times, lost long ago and pale in her memory. Blinded by her adoration of him, as she knew she was, she thought of the first time they met. His harshness, his belittlement – she'd hated him. And then came the rush of repentance and apologies.

'Come on, then,' he said, not even looking at her as he lugged his trunk and broom up the staircase, with Cronus trailing after him. Rose followed slowly and wandered whether she should say anything at all. Maybe it was better just to leave him be.

They reached the top of the stairs and he turned to one of the nearest room. He let himself in and she followed in silence. It was small, with a thin, single bed in the middle of the room and a bathroom at the side. Scorpius had clearly taken the cheapest room. Rose thought it odd, knowing of his wealth.

'Come on, what is it?' he demanded, dropping his trunk and broom on the bed before turning to face her. She trembled on the edge of speech, stopped by the annoyance in his face.

'Scorpius, calm down,' she said quietly, desperately wanting him back to his normal self, but this had not helped.

'Calm down? Calm down!' he snapped, his voice growling fiercely. 'I've just been kicked out!'

All romantic hope was wiped from her mind. 'Kicked out? What did you do?'

'Oh, so you think it's my fault too!' He threw himself back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.

'I never said that,' she said weakly.

He didn't reply. With great trepidation, Rose crept towards the bed.

'I'm sorry,' she said to him, staring into the pale grey eyes that refused to look back. 'I shouldn't have just turned up like that.'

He seemed to disregard the apology but did stand up and face her. 'You didn't come for no reason, what did you want?'

She stammered slightly, not knowing what to say or if this would just increase his irritation. _I'm going to have to tell him eventually_, she thought. _We can't carry on like this. _

'Well?'

'I… Scorpius, I-'

'Oh, Rose,' he said slowly with a smirk. 'You're too old to be so shy.'

She felt her cheeks enflame. There it was. He thought her weak, childish and ridiculous. Her ridiculous inability to talk was just proving it. She'd never be worthy of him – this great God who said what he felt and disregarded all irrelevancies. She was probably just an irrelevancy now. But he still stared at her with that piercing glare and she was suddenly reminded of how close they had once been to her. The last night seemed far away and unreal. Stupid, without meaning, she'd been drunk and he'd been tired. And then there were those eyes again. Somehow, as she felt her feet guide her towards him, and felt his anger radiate on her skin, she knew he would not push her away.

And then before she'd had to think it through she'd pushed herself into his arms, and there was only a glimpse of silver eye in the sunlight before she felt his lips on hers. Soft, smooth, warm, hers. She felt his arm press on her back and she raised a soft, shy hand to his cheek. His anger had moulded into a different kind of ferocity as he buried himself in her wild hair and her fear and nervousness was now soft and true and blissful.


	23. The Walls

For a long time nothing needed to be said. The room was still and cool as they sat beside each other, never quite touching since that one, first time. They never lit any light, so it was dark too. When she looked at him she could see his silhouette, his long, pointed nose, sharp chin and flicks of pale hair that still shone in the moonlight. He sat rigidly.

Every now and then she'd go to hold his hand but then she wouldn't. Or she'd lean her head towards him, but pull it back. He did not move through any of this. And then it was he who clasped her hand tightly in his and turned towards her with the moonshine on his face. She stroked their entwined fingers and looked at him when she dared.

'Sorry,' he said and his eyes shifted in discomfort. She just looked at him, forgetting to register or respond to his words. Perhaps he was inclined to think that he had not been forgiven.

Something flowed between them that had not been there before; Albus would have seen it. Something had broken and the floods had crashed in. They sat in silence as it ebbed between them, its gravity holding them perfectly in place, their fingers just touching.

It was so dark, but Rose could feel him. She was so aware of his position, his movements, his breath. In the dark she felt him turn towards her but he did not kiss her. He released her hand from his. Their foreheads met and he held her face tight in both hands, his thumb running softly over her freckles.

'I've waited so long for this,' she allowed herself to whisper and he couldn't see her blush. He didn't respond, but pulled her face towards his and allowed their lips to momentarily touch.

Then she laid her head in her favourite place on his shoulder and stared at nothing while his fingers ran through her hair. There was such a cool calm in the room. In her body. All tension was gone and the world was at ease. The very walls of the room seemed to swoop down and caress her with the closing of her pale eyes. The distant trees through the window bowed to them, King and Queen of the London night.

Now and then a tremor of fear went through her; that she was out too late, that her parents would wonder where she had gone. But she just couldn't care. She couldn't bring herself to tear her head from his shoulder. To disappear and leave him in the lonely dark.

'Is everything ok now?' he asked quietly, and she listened to the hum of his voice. It was monotone and steady, it did not sing, it did not rise and fall like the mountains; it did not rise and fall like her chest; it was not a song; but, yes, a dull hum. And it warmed her and made her sure.

'Yes,' she said; and wondered if he had paid much attention to the tune of her voice.

And yet with every second the walls seemed to push in on them. The real world wanted to obliterate them. Twist through the window into the calm, dark room and fill it with chaos. Turn them outwards and away from each other. Turn them into something new, always different to what they were in this moment. She felt it.

Really, nothing of the sort was happening. Seconds were merely passing as they always do.

And then he wrapped her arm around her and squeezed her tight. Though she didn't know how, Rose did know that this signalled the end. People always squeeze you tightly when they mean to let you go. And sure enough he sat up straight and his arm was gone. Rose felt incredibly cold for a moment.

She knew what she had to say.

'It's late.' A bell tolled in the distance. 'I should go.'

They looked at each other and both of them put forth small smiles. She stood and he followed. Then Scorpius walked towards Rose and held his arms around her waist, and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She smiled and kissed his lips.

'I'll see you on the Platform,' said Scorpius, dispelling any hopes she had of visiting again before Monday.

'See you then,' she grinned despite herself.

And then it was over and she was passing like a spectre through the quietened pub and spun through the fireplace without attracting a glance. There was a happiness in her that made it impossible not to smile, and made her supress several laughs that had no obvious cause.

She had never looked forward to returning to Hogwarts quite so much. She could see the long evenings by the lake, the quietly flirtatious Potions lessons, the sour look on Anwen's face… Suddenly Hogwarts seemed to her the haven that her parents had always told her about. Perhaps she'd take Scorpius to tea with Hagrid, or they could spend their weekends hand in hand around Hogsmeade.

Lily would be pleased, she knew that, and Albus and James wouldn't mind. Hugo barely even entered her mind. And Violet… she had almost forgotten about Violet for the whole of Easter. She knew the ever-gentle Violet would be as excited as Rose. She would write to her tonight.

Rose tip-toed up through the living room. The house was dim and quiet. She could hear her father's snoring echoing down the stairs. Hugo's model Quidditch team were still hovering above the floor asleep where he had left them. She reached the corridor and heard a creak behind her.

Turning around, she saw her mother standing at the bottom of the stairs, her wild hair in a silhouette around her head. She was clad in pyjamas and dressing gown, and her brown eyes sparkled with a tired kindness.

'I was wondering where you'd got to,' she said, her voice edging into the severe.

'I'm sorry,' said Rose truthfully, 'I just forgot the time.'

Hermione looked at her for a moment, and seemed to soften as she picked up on the smile spread across Rose's face.

'Just tell us what time you're back next time, ok?' Rose nodded dutifully. 'And perhaps avoid your father in the morning.'

They exchanged an amused look and her mother turned to walk up the stairs. Rose had a bizarre feeling that Hermione knew the cause of Rose's happiness, but could not think how; for her mother's dark glance betrayed a satisfied knowing.

'Good night Rose,' she said with the same smug undertone.

'Night Mum,' replied Rose.

For a moment Rose paused at the foot of the stairs and marvelled in the majesty of the evening's events, but then she smiled, shook her head lightly, and ascended the stairs behind her mother.

She was soon tucked up in bed and the curtains drawn to block out the pale moon and penetrating stars. Rose wondered if 2 days' separation would be long enough to convince her that she had dreamed it, her hopes and imagining taken hold and finally driven her to hallucinating. And just before her tired eyes flickered softly to sleep, a mourning took Rose that she was too tired to comprehend, because sometimes people mourn for the end of sadness just as they do happiness, knowing that a part of them will change and be lost as paper turned to cinder in a fire.


	24. Morning

She had waited for so long to leave the house - woken early, walked in a cloud of dragging movement and thought, Athena's morning hoot echoing inside. She sat in the dining room, her chair tucked neatly under the dark wood of the table and sat in almost perfect silent. The Little Prince was her book of choice, its spine lightly creased as she bent the pages towards her eyes, as pale as the morning sky.

She had not seen Scorpius since that night on Friday, and it was Monday morning now. No correspondence at all had passed between them, in fact, and Rose did not like it. Through the nights of Friday and Saturday and Sunday she had wondered if it could ever be true that he would kiss her like that, the boy she had watched since her very first year, but her memory argued that it was very true indeed. In the waking hours, Rose distracted herself mainly with muggle reading. It was first Oscar Wilde, and now Saint-Exupery, who had lead her away from her Magic Textbooks and shown her the world of literature, of story and prose and fiction and fantasy. Of ideas and dreams. It seemed so much more enthralling than what was, to her, the somewhat disappointing world of real magic. And so on she read.

A floorboard creaked overheard and Rose did not look up. Nor did she when footsteps trickled down the stairs and along the corridor. And then young Hugo, only just 13, opened the door to the dining room and peaked through his head of bright red hair, made messy by morning, and yawned loudly.

Again, Rose did not look up.

He walked silently across the carpet and assumed the chair next to her. For a moment he waited for acknowledgement, and watched her read for another, before finally breaking the gentle glaze of silence that was in the air of the room.

'Looking forward to school?' he asked, and even now Rose took a moment to look at him. When she did, she seemed to play his question through in her mind to process it before responding.

'Oh, yeah, I suppose so,' and in her eyes there was assumed a defeat, like a butterfly grasped in a net, being pulled from the air unwillingly. 'Are you?'

'A bit, it is a laugh most of the time – when we don't get much homework.' Hugo rubbed his eyes tiredly and lent back in the chair. Despite his dark brown eyes and slightly curled hair, his resemblance to Ron was striking in the long nose and heavy freckles.

Rose looked at him with a hint of condescension. 'Hugo, you're a Second Year. You know nothing of homework.'

'Only because Molly usually does it for me,' he grinned.

'Our cousin Molly?' asked Rose disapprovingly. 'Hugo, that's cheating. And I didn't think Molly would be willing to do that.'

'I think she just likes to show off about how clever she is.'

Rose gave him another look before turning back to her book, but her brother interrupted once again.

'Lily told me you're going out with the Malfoy boy,' he said with a slight smirk. Rose cringed inwardly.

'His name is Scorpius,' she said.

'It's still yuck. I bet dad wouldn't be happy, especially after you came back so late the other night.' There was a daring taunt in his eye now, and Rose turned to face him.

'You wouldn't –'

'Oh, wouldn't I?' he sniggered. 'You're a nerd, Rose, you'd be able to think your way out of it.' With that the small boy stood and fled the room with a playfully mischievous look.

'Oh, just get lost,' she muttered and rolled her eyes.

As the door did not shut behind Hugo before her mother's bushy-haired head peeped around the edge of it. 'Have you packed all your books?'

'I'll do it in a minute,' she sighed.

'No, Rose, we're going to be late. Now, please.' Her mother sounded stressed, as she always did on the day they left for school. There was never that much to be done, and they never were late, but Hermione would find something to worry and obsess over, and with the years Rose had learnt to just obey her.

'Ok, ok, I'm going now.'

As Rose ascended the stairs, she heard Hermione's shrill voice order Ron to put down the newspaper and make breakfast, though she had not yet spotted Hugo making his Chudley Cannon figures race up and down the corridor when he too had not finished packing. Rose reached her room and slammed the door shut behind her, feeling quiet solitude resume. For a moment she was struck by how often she was utterly alone during the holidays, in contrast to the constant bustle of the school corridors and tired chatter of her dormitory. She wondered how often she and Scorpius would be alone there, perhaps in afternoons by the lake or quiet corners of the library, but never really alone, never secure in their privacy, free to say and do as they pleased without fear of being overheard or interrupted.

And then for a moment she began to wonder if they would ever truly have that privacy. Perhaps one day they would live together, in a house not dissimilar to her own but far from other people who were not wanted in their moments of solitude. And then she froze and cast it from her mind. The future with Scorpius was too uncertain and foreboding to think of at all.

Rose went to her desk and began gathering up her numerous textbooks. Almost all interest in these books had faded now. They seemed cold and dull compared to the beautiful, pure, passionate volumes downstairs in her mother's bookshelves. The textbooks in her hands had scarcely been touched over the holidays, and Rose was struck by fear as she thought of how little she had worked or revised over Easter, with her OWLs fast approaching. She had been utterly distracted and even now, looking down at the old pages, wondered if she could really find the motivation to read through them all again, to pass her eyes over their words and feel nothing, touching on blank knowledge that would be so irrelevant to her. Clever though she may be, Rose did not want to spend the rest of her life with these books, with that torturously dull study of things so uncreative like repeating spells or potions recipes or looking at plants or reciting historical dates. She could not care about them.

Maybe Hogwarts would reignite her love of magic, but Rose had never much loved Hogwarts either. She could still remember the feeling of rejection at her sorting, her fear of not living up to her brilliant parents, her anger at them not telling them the full story, which she had only learnt in that ancient castle's walls. So far the place, with all its wonder and grandness and mystery, had sparked little but worry and disappointment for Rose.

Although she would admit the school's one triumph. It had given her Scorpius – and if that was the only gift of the magical world to her then so be it, it was a fine one. For that, at least, she was grateful.

'Rose, are you ready? Your mother will get a heart like a flutterby bush if we don't leave soon!' called Ron from downstairs.

Rose threw the books into her case, clicked it shut, and sped from the room.


	25. 4 Years Ago

The platform was filled with a familiar steam that obscured all around. The small Rose, her red hair neatly plaited and Hogwarts robes crisp and clean, stood between her parents, again looking up at the great, scarlet engine with trepidation.

'I don't want to go,' she said quietly, but no one seemed to hear.

Beside her, the small Hugo, newly turned 9, had a face of wonder and longing as he looked at precisely the same scene. It was 10 to eleven, and Rose Weasley would soon be rushing through the countryside towards her third term at Hogwarts. Her mother's reassuring grip on her shoulder was no comfort.

Between clouds of smoke could be seen a stocky red-headed man and an athletic, pretty black woman beside him. Holding the woman's hand was a girl, not much older than Hugo, gazing around the scene with equal excitement. Rose recognised her cousin Roxanne. A way in front of the family was her older brother, Fred, in deep discussion with two other Gryffindor 3rd years, the taller and blond one being another cousin, Louis.

'George!' called Ron and wandered towards the family, quickly followed by Hugo. Taking advantage of their absence, Rose turned towards her mother.

'Do I have to go?' she murmured, blushing slightly. Hermione's face formed a sad smile.

'Why don't you like Hogwarts? You were so excited to start.'

There was a silence as Rose tried to form a sentence that she thought would not sound ridiculous.

'I thought I'd be a Gryffindor then,' she said, bowing her head slightly, 'but I'm not and it's… lonely.'

'Don't be silly,' Hermione said tenderly, 'Houses don't mean that much at all. There's no need to feel left out. You can still be as close friends with Albus and your other cousins as ever.' But Rose's face was still doubtful as little tears formed in her eyes. 'There really is nothing to be scared of. And you've already made great friends with other Ravenclaws, what about Violet? Scorpius seems to be your best friend of all, and he's in a different house.' Rose nodded timidly as Hermione smoothed her hair. 'You can be friends with whoever you want; you'll have a great term.'

Rose smiled for her mother and Hermione smiled back. Behind the pale blue eyes Rose's mind was still restless, still full of fear and dismissive of her mother's words. _Of course houses are important, why would everyone care about them so much if they weren't?_

From the mist appeared Albus, still muggle-attired and pulling with him his trolley packed with a hooting owl and sizeable trunk. He smiled at Rose and she returned it. Behind Albus were Harry, Ginny and Lily, for James had already run off to join Fred and his other friends.

Rose and Albus entered into vague conversation about their holidays and their hopes for the next term, Rose well-concealing her uncertainty. Lily observed them, looking somewhat put-out, as she always did when her brothers were returning to Hogwarts and she was not.

Above them, Ron had returned and it was to he and Hermione that Harry addressed his next statement.

'You've probably heard, but Professor Flitwick told me yesterday about the memorial next month.'

'No I hadn't. Merlin's beard, doesn't feel like 20 years,' Ron replied solemnly. Hermione held his hand without anyone noticing.

'They're having it in the Hogwarts' grounds,' said Ginny. 'The Prophet's giving me the day off; the same goes for anyone at the Ministry who wants to go.'

'It's good they're doing it,' said Hermione, slightly quieter than her usual voice. 'It will be nice.'

'Yeah,' muttered Harry, Ron and Ginny and nodded in agreement.

All four of them thought of precisely the same thing as they looked down at their children, conversing and running around and laughing.

Rose only half-heard this conversation, and understood it even less.

'I'm going to find Jason,' said Albus, 'see you on the train!' Rose wondered for a moment if she would be friends with Jason McLaggen if she were a Gryffindor. She had wondered a little from her parents, and could no longer see them through the mist. Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a boy slightly taller than herself, with white-blond hair and a pointed face.

'Hi,' said Rose quickly, her face lighting up, 'where are your parents?'

Scorpius shrugged.

'Somewhere around here. They were talking to some boring old friends so I left them.'

Ron emerged out of the smoke behind them.

'Scorpius,' he said curtly, before turning to Rose, 'The train's off in a few minutes, you should get a space.' He bent down slightly so their faces were at the same height. 'Have a great time, alright? And you and Al keep an eye on James and Fred, make sure to report back any trouble.' Rose grinned up at her father and he pulled her into a hug. 'There's a kind of memorial thing so me and Mum will see you in a month, and remember what I said in September about your tests.' Ron glanced at Scorpius then winked at Rose, who rolled her eyes.

Hermione appeared. She kissed Rose gently on the head and stroked down the red hair that was escaping from Rose's plait. 'I promise it won't be that bad,' she whispered in her ear.

As Rose and Scorpius boarded the train, they were almost hit by an enchanted firework that had whizzed from the compartment where James sat with his friends. The train was packed this close to 11, and Rose caught fleeting glimpses of familiar faces as they rushed past her. Victoire blew a kiss to Teddy out of the train window; Frankie Longbottom sat gossiping with a group of Gryffindor girls; Molly, Percy's daughter, was lecturing someone on their use of a fanged frisbee. Rose and Scorpius eventually found a compartment at the very end of the carriage, just in time for Rose to stick her head out of the window and wave back at her parents and Hugo, who looked just as miserable as Lily beside him.

Rose replayed that day in her head as the car pulled up outside King's Cross 5 years later. If she had listened to her mother, would her life be so very different? Would she have spent her Easter with Albus and Jason rather than Scorpius?

And then she thought of the conversation she had only half-heard, and wondered how great was the pain that her father still felt for his lost brother, how recent did those brutal battles still seem in her parents' minds? How little her fears of Hogwarts had been compared to that great grief.


	26. Platform 9 34

They got out of the car. It was busy, with a steady ebb of people flowing in and out of the station. Ron carried Rose and Hugo's trunks to the door, light in his hands thanks to Hermione's lightening charm. Her mother then fetched them trolleys, onto which they loaded their luggage. Rose held Athena who seemed calm this morning, quietly surveying the scene with her wide yellow eyes. As ever, the family gathered many stares as they cut through the crowds towards the barrier. Several young girls laughed and pointed at Hugo, wobbling along while Dusty, his Sooty Owl, fluttered wildly in her cage. He blushed as red as his hair.

Rose floated quietly through the station, her warm hair neatly tucked into a bun. She was muggle-attired, her enthusiasm to wear her school robes having faded dramatically over the years. A smile touched her lips, the first time she had smiled in this station since her very first journey here. And for the first time since then it seemed buzzing with life, with excitement. Every now and then another strangely-dressed teenager would wander past, or an owl would hoot in the distance, and Rose found it exhilarating. Never had she felt so privileged to be part of this great secret. And the muggles wandered by so unaware…

And then they were at the barrier. Hugo, still slightly unsure, ran at the barrier, his expression screwed up with the anticipation of impact. Rose walked calmly towards to wall between Platforms 9 and 10 and slipped through with ease. On the other side was the great scarlet engine and the usual steam swirling through the air. An enormous wave of sound hit her. Parents and sisters and brothers whirled around in the smoke, half-seen. Rose could scarcely discern a face, spare Hugo's beside her.

Then a pair of arms flew out of the mist and wrapped around her. Rose felt the hair against her face and knew who it was.

'We barely spoke all Easter!' came the sweet voice. 'Until that letter the other night I thought you'd forgotten me.' Violet faced her now, her wide turquoise eyes glowing.

'Of course not,' said Rose and smiled.

'I suppose you had other concerns,' said Violet knowingly, and Rose grinned despite herself. 'I knew it, I always knew you'd get together eventually. And I frequently told you.'

'And you and Fred?' Rose asked, recalling Violet's grief prior to the holidays.

'Ok now, I think,' she shrugged, though did not look upset. 'I guess we'll see.'

Violet soon left to re-join her family, and Rose turned to find hers vanished into the smoke. She cut through the people, again searching for a face she recognised. It did not take long to again catch sight of her parents, having finished loading Rose and Hugo's luggage, stood next to Ginny and George, for Harry and Angelina were working. Albus stood in front of the four alone, while James, Fred and Lily were absorbed in each other's conversation.

'Hey, Rose,' said Albus as she approached. 'It just hit me that we do our OWLs this terms. It's weird.'

'It's terrifying,' muttered Rose, again regretting her lack of revision over Easter.

'But apparently they're going to teach us the Patronus Charm before our exams! Mum said something about a special guest coming in to talk us through it.'

'Wow,' said Rose, to the children of the Order, the Patronus Charm had always seemed to staple of a good wizard. 'What's your Patronus again, Dad?' she asked Ron.

'A great, brave wolf,' he replied, pushing out his slightly podgy chest.

'It's a Jack Russell,' whispered Hermione and they all laughed.

'Can all wizards do Patronuses?' asked Albus, and the older wizards exchanged a look.

'Not necessarily,' it was George who replied, his jovial expression somewhat fallen. 'Sometimes, if something really bad happens, something that makes you lose a lot of hope, you can't do it anymore.' Rose and Albus knew about whom he was talking. Ron's hand was on his brother's shoulder.

With a swish of red hair Lily had skipped from James and Fred towards Rose.

'If you're looking for Scorpius, I think I just saw him arrive,' she said, and Rose caught a glimpse of Ron rolling his eyes, and Hermione elbowing him. 'He was on his own, so he can't have gone back home.'

'Thanks,' said Rose, her heart speeding up in her chest. Again Rose scanned the crowd but could not see him. 'Back in a sec,' she murmured to the others, before wandering off into the smoke.

She caught sight of Percy and dodged to avoid him; then Louis, Bill and Fleur, with whom she exchanged smiles; then the McLaggen siblings: burly, harsh-looking Callum, beautiful, confident Lauren and the smiling and more timid Jason; then the Longbottoms, Frankie was scanning the crows and Rose wondered if she was looking for James, while small, blond Alice followed behind her elder sister; and then Scorpius. He looked tired, with dark circles around his icy eyes, and his pale hair ruffled and messy. His clothes were scruffy too, and even Cronus looked surprisingly rugged for an owl. He looked at her and smiled faintly, and she noticed the ghostly tone of his skin.

'Have you been eating?' she demanded instantly upon reaching him. 'You look exhausted. Thank god we're going back to Hogwarts to be looked after properly.'

'Shut up, Rose,' he said, half-smiling. She did. He held her hand and pulled her away from the crowd, though Rose pulled his trolley along with her, for fear of Cronus going missing. They reached a corner shaded by a great stone pillar and without a word he kissed her, fiercer than before with a kind of abandon as he pulled her towards him, his hands tight across her back. She felt her pulse thudding through her, her cheeks hot against his face. She allowed her own hands to roll through his hair and down the back of his neck.

'…Rose?' came a quiet voice and she pulled away instantly. To her displeasure, Hugo stood just behind them, his face distorted into an expression which clearly said _yuck_. 'Dad said to tell you the trains about to leave,' and with that the boy turned on his heel and left.

'Hugo' snarled Rose, running forward to grab her brother, 'Hugo!' But he had already vanished into the steam, and with a glance upwards Rose saw that it was indeed 11.58. She and Scorpius both hurried to load his luggage onto the train, before leaping on just as the train lurched into motion. She caught sight of Ron and Hermione on the platform and waved – _had Hugo been able to impart his news to them before getting on the train? _There was no sign of anger in Ron's face.

The pair wandered through the busy carriage, before Roxanne and Lily appeared, they too apparently in search of a compartment.

'Want to sit with us?' offered Rose.

'Sorry,' replied Roxanne, 'Some girls in our year have saved us seats.'

'Should probably hang out with some people my own age,' smiled Lily, and the two girls again vanished down the corridor.

Rose and Scorpius walked and walked to little avail. She saw James, Louis and Tommy sitting together, each boy accompanied by Frankie Longbottom, Lauren McLaggen and Aoife Finnegan respectively. Rose was happy to note Frankie and James' reconciliation and wondered why Fred was not with them as he usually was.

The answer to this question was revealed quickly, when they came across a compartment in which Violet, Fred and Albus. To Rose, Fred choosing Violet over James seemed a crucial relationship development.

'Mind if we join?' asked Rose.

'Of course not,' said Violet and the others smiled in agreement. Rose perched herself next to Albus, and Scorpius next to Violet.

'So,' said Fred, 'Ron know about you two yet?' Rose shot Violet a look.

'Sorry, but I had to tell him. I couldn't resist.' Violet blushed slightly and entwined her fingers around Fred's. Scorpius looked mortified.

'No need to be shy, Scorpius,' grinned Fred, 'the whole school will know soon, and then it will be embarrassing.'

'And you best not be the one to spread it,' warned Rose, but Fred's only answer was a mischievous wink. Violet hit him.

'I don't really see what the issue is,' said Albus, 'is it really worth all the gossip there'll be?'

'Harry Potter's niece with Draco Malfoy's son?' smiled Fred, 'Best gossip they've had since James started school.'

'Great,' said Scorpius through gritted teeth.

'I wouldn't worry,' said Fred, 'if anything it'll make you look better. Show you're perfectly fine with mud-bloods and blood-traitors and all that, in fact, _more than fine_.'

'I hate you, Fred,' said Rose, and her cousin grinned.


	27. 3 Years Later

The room was dark. She had let the light drain away without resistance, without forcing any false, harsh glare on the naturally progression into dusk. Oh, Rose, Rose, sweet Rose, with cheeks whiter than the moon outside which glowed so gently on her broken breast; her burning, twisting insides; her shrieking, searing heart; her thundering, bellowing mind, all full of silent agony in a silent room. The tears had dried on her face and left a moonlit river carved through her features, the glassy blue eyes that wanted to see nothing, as much as her mind wanted to think nothing, and her soul wanted to feel nothing.

How strange, to look out onto fog-clouded marshes, dismal and grey, and think of the stars falling further away above one's head. To feel, in a moment of purest pain, the universe moving about you, and to be incapable of caring. The glance back to the head of the bed had not yet stopped being instinctive; the sight of the crisp, cold pillow still not sufficiently emblazoned in her skull. She still saw him for a moment. But the moment was soon gone and something inside her fell away like the stars.

He wasn't even dead. She couldn't even romanticise it that much.

There's no feeling like that, that moment when your stomach drops and your eyes sting, no worse moment ever will you live through - to be alone, void of poetic solitude, void of romantic melancholy, to be simply alone and wretched. She was wretched, a cast-out, unwanted creature on the end of her own bed - her own bed and no one else's - the bed where every night she lie in torment, in hell, in a thrall of demons, because there was not a cheek across which her hand could pass softly unawares, and not a heavy breath to lull her to slumber.

I had to tell you. I couldn't let you hope.


	28. And 3 Years Back

She woke early. The Ravenclaw common room was laced with the pale light of morning as the deep blue silks sparkled. The light spread through the dark circle of the room and made the midnight carpet a shimmering river. The stars, painted intricately on the ceiling, shone brighter than the ones now hidden outside.

Pulling herself up, she turned and cast her cool gaze out of the window, towards the grounds. From the Ravenclaw Tower, you could see them in their entirety: the lake, like a mirror, the rolling fields of emerald, crisp with morning, and then the forest, shaded by the great, far-off mountains.

She turned her head again and saw Violet. The girl lay peaceful in her bed, her skin glowing like the silk beneath her. Rose reached out a hand to tap her shoulder, but was reluctant to disturb the frail, quiet sleep and turned back to the window. The air was getting warmer already, preparing for a Hogwarts summer of sport and long, sunny days at the lake. Her OWLs seemed simply irrelevant in this tall, silent room, and part of a world which she somehow knew didn't really matter, not when Violet could sleep so softly and the early morning sun shine through the clouds.

A shuffle of fabric alerted Rose to the fact that Violet had arose naturally. She stretched and released a soft morning groan, as Rose tiptoed across the floor. Violet held up the duvet for Rose to slip in beside her.

'I didn't see you after the feast,' said Rose enquiringly, and Violet blushed. 'Where did you get to?'

Violet seemed to sink into her dark hair. 'Just got delayed really – y'know. Do you think breakfasts ready yet?' But she could not disguise the lips twisting to supress a smile between her now red cheeks.

'Vi, you were HOURS. It must have been 12 when I fell asleep. On the first night of term too – you rebel!' Rose delighted in Violet's quiet happiness; there never seemed to be much complication in her nice little world.

'It wasn't anything _that_ bad,' she muttered, half-hiding her face under the blanket. 'Fred took me out to the grounds, said he wanted to show me the stars.'

'Probably showed you more than that…'

Violet tried to look at Rose with reproach but just laughed. 'Stop! We just hung out and stuff – it was so much fun, Rose.' Her smile was big and true and real. 'Before Easter, things were all funny and I swear I thought he was going to dump me, but last night was perfect, so perfect.'

And Rose smiled too because the stars that Violet had seen last night were deep in her eyes. And Rose hugged Violet, and held her smooth head to her shoulder and whispered, 'I'm so happy for you Violet, so happy.'

Rose bid Violet and Felicity Clearwater farewell in the Entrance Hall, and while they took their breakfast, went to stand where the long, dark staircase that led down into the dungeons fed out into the brilliant hall. First to appear from the stairs was Anwen Nott, who with a flick of her long, black hair thrust Rose out of the way. Even now something flared in her chest when she thought of the long, quiet nights she must spend with Scorpius in the Slytherin Common Room. Rose hopefully imagined Scorpius coming in and retiring immediately to the dormitory with a book. And then the real Scorpius' face burst through the illusion and he stood before her, lit by the diamond sun. His smile was reluctant, and her heart sank.

'Did you sleep well?' She asked, and he did not look at her, but walked slightly faster than her as if she was not there. Groups of students seemed to stop and a chorus of whispering arose through the air, causing Rose to blush slightly and Scorpius to shoot fiery looks at anyone in his path.

'Yes, fine. Yourself?'

'Fine.' She said, and waited a second to see if he would acknowledge her response. He pushed a First Year out of the way. 'Wish they'd all shut up about us.' He stopped in his path and glowered at a group of onlookers, who quickly dispersed.

'What did you expect, Scorpius?' she stammered, willing herself to speak up, willing herself to look into those pale grey eyes, 'I'm Harry Potter's niece; I'm sorry to say it but you're a- a Malfoy – _a known Death Eater family_. That means nothing to me, but it does matter to_ them_. People were always going to talk and I thought you wouldn't care.'

'So it doesn't bother _you_? You don't care what anyone thinks?' He snapped, somehow cutting deeper than the simple words. He seemed to put a mocking irony into it. Rose paused and blushed for a second. Of course she cared, she cared more than anyone, but she cared more about finally having him.

'But I thought you'd be above it all – you'd think it was stupid-'

'I do think it's stupid. I don't want to give them more to gossip about.' He tried to turn away, but she was rooted to the spot and with a feeble hand turned him back.

'By acting like my boyfriend?'

'Just stop Rose, seriously. Why does it matter to you so much that we show off we're together?' She paused, tears forming in her eyes, glanced around wildly for help, and found groups of students gathered, listening in. 'I've got bigger stuff to worry about without dealing with any of this rubbish.' His gaze bore into her; Rose shattered under it.

'Looks like you've given them more to gossip about,' she gasped, pushing through the surrounding students, and swept away into the Great Hall before anything more could be said. He stared at the point where she had fled, then turned on his heel and shoved a second year from his path, before descending the stairs to the dungeons once more.

He felt at home in these dank, dark corridors, sparsely lit with glimmering torches that cast tall shadows on the rotting walls. For a moment he had a vague wish to hide forever in the shadows, never face anyone else, and never have to be seen. It seemed that Rose hadn't quite recognised that here stood a boy who, after being mocked and rejected by society for his accidental and resented family connection, had just been made homeless and as far as he knew disinherited by said resented family. Perhaps she thought that release from such people would be a release, but perhaps she did not understand what Scorpius now knew all too poignantly, that there is no greater pain than fearing yourself unloved by the only people who are really meant to love you eternally and unconditionally. Rose did not know what it was like to not have someone love you unconditionally, did not understand the agony of a boy whose father had never told him that he loved him, and whose mother had never read him a story or kissed him goodnight in his younger years. No, she did not understand. And here were more people, all around, laughing and speculating and hating, hating something they didn't even know. Always more people.


	29. By The Lake

Rose could not help but allow her little tears to slide down her pale cheeks as she stormed through the Great Hall, not daring to look at a single face until she was seated at the far end of the Ravenclaw table with no one else. Her head fell into her hands and she couldn't bring herself to care that they looked as she released a great, heaving sob that shook her inside. Everything seemed to melt away and there was only the red, red inside of her eyelids, and her locked hands clamped tight to her bushy hair. _So close, so close. Never again. Never let yourself hope again. _No, she could never face such bitter disappointment again in all her life. She was quite sure it would break her completely. For now the whole of Hogwarts, the whole of the world had fallen away and there was only a loud, loud pain pounding in her chest.

And then a soft, clear voice broke through.

'Rose! Oh, Rose, what's wrong?' and she couldn't help but look up into Violet's great, turquoise eyes, and see them accompanied by a deeply brown pair just behind.

'I-it's nothing,' she stammered feebly, rubbing her stained, puffy face with the sleeve of her robe. Lily sat down on the other side of her.

'What's he done now?' she asked, wrapping a strand of her fiery red hair around her forefinger.

'I don't know,' said Rose as she attempted to supress fresh tears. 'He's so bothered by people talking about us – it's come out of nowhere. They won't have anything to talk about anymore!' She threw her head back down on the table and Violet wrapped an arm tight around her quivering shoulders.

'I think you're being a bit melodramatic,' sighed Lily. 'I doubt he'd chuck everything with you away because of something like _that_.' Rose raised her eyes to glare at Lily, as carelessly patronising as ever. Violet disregarded this comment.

'He's probably just nervous or something,' she suggested lightly as she rubbed Rose's arm. 'You're his first girlfriend really, aren't you? He might be freaking out a bit - it's normal.' Lily tittered.

'You really don't know Scorps, do you?' then she turned back to Rose with a serious eye. 'You seem to be disregarding how much crap he's going through at the moment. He might be pissed that you're not paying any attention to that.'

'Lily!' interjected Violet reproachfully. Rose opened her mouth to argue back, but her lip trembled and shut again.

'No offence, but you need to stop moaning about your own pretty mediocre problems and help him out a bit.' Rose still stared at those sickeningly chocolate eyes, the orbs of condescension. 'It's what you'd do if you cared.'

'You don't know how it is,' came the quiet protest, but Lily shot it down with a roll of her eyes.

'I'm going to find Scorpius and see how _he _is,' she declared, arising from the table with a flourish of her mane and gliding from view, leaving Rose distraught and disgruntled.

'Just ignore her,' said Violet in a tone that regretfully lacked sincerity, and led Rose to sink deeper into her friend's shoulder with a sigh. 'She's always a bit blunt… Let's just have some breakfast!'

Out in the Entrance Hall, Lily did not waver in her location of Scorpius, slipping down into the dungeons without considering another possibility. She walked down the dark corridors with an out-of-place grace, and her bright skin and hair lighting them up more than those dim lanterns. And thus he saw her coming, and cowered further into the corner where he had shielded himself, but this was futile, and she picked out his drawn face from the grimy wall immediately.

'Go, Lily,' he said, with a harsh warning to his voice. Out of nowhere she smiled.

'_Like_ I'm going to do that,' she said, and then slid down beside him in his darkened sanctuary. They said nothing for a while. He refused to acknowledge her presence, keeping a steady eye on the opposing wall, while she looked straight at him with an equally steely expression. There was a sound that seemed far, far away, the dripping of water down the ancient walls. Everything seemed very far way.

'It's pretty crap, isn't it?' she said, and her voice haunted the cob-webbed corners of the passage.

'I don't know what you mean,' he said in a strong voice. But he still looked at her, and thought that this was the only time he had heard her speak without laughing or pulling a face or grimacing or scowling. She just looked pure, wide-eyed, her full, pink lips suspended limp where the words had left them.

'You do,' she said, still frozen, suspended in a time that was slipping away with every second, and no magic could stop it. They still looked at each other hard, almost angrily.

'You know more than her,' he said in slow, measured words, doubting it with every breath, 'without saying half as much.'

Her eyes were glossy, red flecks amid the brown, reflecting the torches, and nothing definable within. His were of stone.

'Don't say shit like that.'

And she was gone.

And he thought about that hours later, as he stood out in the grounds in the orange, evening light, watching the procession of Rose, Lily, Hugo, James and Albus trudge towards Hagrid's for their occasional tea-parties. As they neared, he stepped back behind a few trees and out of their sight. He heard the creek and clunk of the door as it was pulled open and slammed shut, sealing them inside the old hut. And there he waited, as the sun fell further behind the mountains and the cries of all manner of bird and beast filled the cooling air. All the time he clung to his wand, every now and then muttering something under his breath and flourishing it to no effect. Finally, on his fourth try, he said '_orchideous_' to the night and it gave him a deep, red rose from the end of the wand. He smiled to himself and stroked the soft, violent petals, then went back to staring at the darkening sky.

The sun last strains of sunlight still spooled into the sky when he heard them leave, and he jumped up to attention. His heart was shuddering as he stepped lightly over the grass, towards the hollering, glorious group, the rose held behind his back.

'Hey,' he said finally, and Rose was the first to turn. Her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened as her pale, blue eyes locked onto his face. James stepped in front of her.

'Leave it, Scorpius. You've done enough for today.' His younger sister pushed him aside and nudged Rose forwards.

'Oh shut up, James. Stop trying to be all impressive,' Lily sniped, before grabbing his muscular arm and turning him around. He went with her reluctantly, and Albus and Hugo too glanced back nervously before departing entirely. Rose and Scorpius stood in quiet until the group passed over a hill and out of sight.

'I-'

'I'm sorry,' she said first, cutting over him. 'I know all this stuff with your family has been crazy and I've been so wrapped up in- in nothing – absolutely nothing – that I haven't been there for you at all.' He smiled despite himself, and they were both lit up by the dim orange glow of the evening.

'I'm sorry for being so moody,' he murmured, and stepped towards her until she looked up into his silver gaze. 'I made you this…' his pale cheeks went slightly pink as he presented the rose, and she grasped it to her chest.

'It's beautiful, Scorpius! So beautiful,' her eyes were glowing – he wondered if there were tears in them. And because there might be tears in them he pulled her head towards his in urgency and the clash of their lips rung out into the night. Rose felt his hot breath on her lips, his soft hair on her fingers and the warmth of him all around, the scent of him wrapping around her. He pressed his hand hard on her back and she bent towards him, her shy, gentle hand, running down his nape. Her heart was thundering, her head swimming, his chest smooth through their robes, a glint of his grey eyes, a swish of her wild hair, and her hand in his as they broke apart and walked in a haze through the emerald grass, down to the diamond lake as the sun finally fell entirely. And they lay beside the lake, and she rested her head on his shoulder and she felt his warm breath on her cheek and both of their hearts, pummelling their rib cages, trying to beat together and Rose nervously suggesting they go back to the castle as night enveloped them entirely and he tried to hold her differently.


	30. The Prophet

_Author's note: The outcome of this story can now be voted for through the poll on my profile – it would be great to hear what you guys want to happen!_

The next few days passed in a haze of bliss. The days of lessons were wiped from the minds of both Rose and Scorpius with the long, silent evenings lazing by the lake or tucked away in the library, before returning to the common room for cosy, fire-side conversations with the eager Violet. Without even realising it, Rose had got the real Hogwarts, the one her parents knew and loved; the one of easy days and easy company and home, despite the oncoming threat of exams.

One particular morning, Rose turned to see Violet running up to the Ravenclaw table at breakfast, waving the Daily Prophet wildly in her hand. Upon reaching Rose, she collapsed on the opposite side of the bench with a morbid dread in her bright eyes. 'Have you seen?' she gasped. Rose quickly replied the negative, her curiosity roused. 'Just you wait!' Violet grimaced. She threw down the Prophet on the table and flicked over the pages until a bold headline stood over a double-page spread: 'FORBIDDEN LOVE AT HOGWARTS?'

Rose's insides lurched as Violet began reading aloud, 'It seems that the arrival of summer is causing heat all the way up in Hogwarts,' she paused to roll her eyes, 'as a close source has revealed to us that love is in the air for none other than Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, both 16. Miss Weasley is none other than the only daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley (née Granger), the war-time heroes who duelled to victory alongside Harry Potter in the Second War and have since become household names…blah, blah, blah… while quite contrastingly, young Mr Malfoy is the newest generation of the 'ex-' Death Eater Malfoy family, and heir to the ancestral home which Voldemort himself… yadda, yadda, yadda… It seems impossible at the moment to ascertain if this is a case of bad-boy-made-good, or rather a young rebellion against the idyllic Weasley-Potter dynasty… and so on… but one thing is certain, these star-crossed lovers have a fight on their hands akin to that of the Boy-Who-Lived.' Violet lay the paper back down on the table with an apologetic smile.

'Shit,' breathed Rose, unable to think or move. Violet climbed under the table to wrap her arm around Rose, which caused a few heads to turn in their direction. She rested her head in Rose's wild hair and stoked her shoulder, but Rose did nothing but stare out into the air with her great, pale eyes. Eventually, she turned to Violet with a quivering lip. 'W-what am I going to do? If he sees this, he'll- he'll call it all off. I know he will.'

'Well, you can't exactly hide it from him,' said Violet quietly. That was clear. Looking around the hall, Rose could already feel the eyes staring at her, the whispers, a wolf-whistle rang out from the Gryffindor table and Rose saw James hit its creator over the back of the head with a piece of toast. Then, to Rose's sinking heart and stomach, she knew the cause of the whistle. The graceful stride of two very recognisable feet approached.

'Hide it,' she seethed through barred teeth, and Violet, with a look of protest, through the paper under the table just before Scorpius sat opposite them.

'Hi, girls,' he said with a lazy smile as he took a slice of bacon, 'sleep well?'

'Very,' said Rose and Violet released a nervous giggle, causing Rose to elbow her in the ribs. Scorpius narrowed his eyes but continued to smile. For several minutes they ate in peace, but Scorpius still shot them strange glances over the toast bowl.

'Why are you two so quiet?' he asked suddenly. They both stammered.

'Us? Us?' stammered Rose, 'Just tired.' She smiled and he did not, but laid down his cutlery.

'And yet you slept very well?' he asked, still not quiet accusatory. 'What's going on? '

Violet exchanged a look with Rose, but as Violet went to answer, Rose interjected, 'nothing, nothing. I'm just getting a bit nervous about exams. It's just dawned on me how near they are!' He looked at her sardonically, before, to her horror, reaching under the table and pulling out the Prophet, turning it to page 7, and holding it out to her.

'I have seen the news,' he said, rolling his eyes. 'I've already been slaughtered for it in the Common Room.' There was a lead weight in her stomach – her lungs seized up. 'And I suppose after our… disagreement… the other day, I had to prepare myself for something like this.' The return of his lop-sided smile caused her whole being to relax. 'And you two are the worst liars that have ever walked the face of the Earth.'

She grabbed his hand and the words rushed from her mouth in one gush, 'I'm so sorry it's all my fault the Prophet is horrible I swear I don't know how they found out I'll never lie to you again I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!'

He laughed and patted the hand in his, 'it's fine! We can only laugh about it, because I'm pretty sure everyone else is.'

And as the day progressed, it became clear that Scorpius was entirely correct in his assessment. In Transfiguration, along with Potions one of the only two lessons that the Ravenclaws were with the Slytherins, the pair had several pink, smoke hearts shot at them across the classroom from Anwen Nott's ferocious gang of girlfriends. Even James and Fred could not resist giving their input when the pair bumped into them in a walk around the grounds.

'The star-crossed lovers!' announced Fred, wordlessly conjuring a rose and sending it zooming between their heads.

'Don't worry,' grinned James beside him, 'I'm sure Ron will be glad to be back in the lime-light.'

'It could do wonders for the WWW business: Weasley Recipe Love Potions: As used by Rose!' suggested Fred, and through it all Scorpius maintained a light heart, and allowed himself to laugh. Over the course of the day Rose's apprehension waned, and by evening she felt quite empowered that really there need be no battle at all.


	31. A Glimpse of Paradise

And sure enough, the excitement surrounding the couple and waned almost completely by the end of the week, and the Saturday that followed promised to be one of relaxation and calm. The sun had barely warmed the light grass when Rose and Scorpius set off for Hogsmeade, their hands bound tightly together, and remaining so until they took their seats at a table in the Three Broomsticks.

'It's so strange,' said Scorpius suddenly, with a questioning look taking over his features, 'that I perhaps have more wrong in my life than I have so far, and yet I am the most happy I've ever been.' Rose's heart swelled with the smile across her face.

'Well, though my familial relations remain intact, I completely agree,' she laughed, and he planted a firm kiss on her lips, and her light fingertips stroked the nape of his neck. 'Butterbeers and OWLs and _snogging; _we're so grown up!'

Thus passed their light day, with no hindrance and warm glances and swinging hands and a million other little acts of love. They walked back to the castle as the sky glowed orange and took a detour along the lake, where they lay quietly in the muggy grass.

'I don't think summer will ever end,' she said, 'if we are always like this.' And the sun was in her eyes and glimmering in the strands of her wild hair.

So he kissed her cheek and lay his head lightly on her chest, and murmured under his breath, _'pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast, to feel forever its soft fall and swell, awake forever in a sweet unrest, still to hear her tender taken breath, and so live ever_-'

'_Or else swoon to death_,' she finished with a light stroke of his hair, '_Keats_, I didn't know you read muggle books.'

'I don't,' he replied, 'but you do. I thought I'd indulge you. After all, _c'est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui rend ta rose si-' _but she stopped his lips with a quick kiss and the last word would never be heard. The sun and the lake and all the trees and the grass melted away at the touch of her lips, and into a perfect orange haze of warmth and eternal summer. Their peace was broken by the cry of another of Hagrid's augureys, whose harsh, high moan made them jump apart. 'Bloody bird,' he breathed, his thumb running over her spatter of freckles.

So long, so long wanting and wishing that she couldn't help but blink back a few reckless tears, and Scorpius closed her watering eyes with soft kisses. To be young and magical and very in love, in a beautiful field as the sun fell behind great mountains and the ancient castle of your ancestry looked on. That was more than enough, and if all but he were gone it would still be enough, and if he was gone and the rest remained, it would be dust. Rose knew that much. It felt like it would be forever, and they would never hate each other, and she would never die. The autumn seemed so far away.


	32. The Patronus

Rain beat furiously against the old, stone walls the next day, and rendered the grounds a swamp. But it could not weigh down Rose's full heart, and she skipped down the stairs to the dungeons with a grace uncommon to her. Scorpius emerged through the passage leading to the Slytherin Common Room with a warm smile, and their hands again entangled.

'I missed you,' said Rose, grinning up at him with eager blue eyes.

'You saw me last night!' he laughed and placed his arm across her shoulder; she sank into his chest as they walked.

'I still missed you,' she said and he rolled his eyes. Their ascendance into the Entrance Hall drew a few glances, most notably from Anwen Nott, whose dark eyes bore into Rose's with a loathsome intensity. Scorpius turned them away from the onlooker, and proceeded towards the Great Hall with the rest of the Fifth Years, gathering now for a special Defence Against the Dark Arts revision session.

'What do you think it will be about?' he asked vaguely.

'Probably something useless,' she replied, 'I imagine they'll have us practise duelling again.'

'I don't think I can face that,' he sighed, 'let's skip it.'

'Are you insane?' asked Rose, her eyes alight with shock. 'Professor Flitwick said it's _compulsory_. It's not worth the trouble, and it could end up being useful.' He rolled his eyes again and with a light laugh followed her through the great oak doors.

Many of their peers had arrived already and were spaced out across the Hall, which had been emptied of the House tables. At the head of the room stood Professor Flitwick, scarcely visible above the rows of heads before him, and Professor Thomas, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher towering beside him. The last few stragglers arrived and soon silence spread across the crowd.

'Now,' pronounced Professor Flitwick, standing on his tiptoes to be seen, 'as you are aware this is a special one-off lesson in order to assist you with your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL. Although the charm you are about to be taught is not listed on the curriculum, we believe that if mastered it will set you apart and additionally prove one of the most valuable skills we can teach you. Some of you may have guessed that the spell of which I speak is the Patronus Charm.' A wave of interest spread through the Hall; this was far more exciting than expected. 'I will allow you to create a form of shield that will take the shape of an animal specific to each one of you. This can be used to ward off dark creatures such as dementors, and, as discovered by our late Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, has the additional use of being able to transmit messages rapidly over long distances.

'But Professor Thomas and I will merely act as assistants. To teach you this, we have decided to bring in an external guest, who you could call something of an expert in this particular charm, having mastered it at the age of only 13, and taught it to his fellow students a mere 2 years later.' Rose clicked, and her eyes connected with those of Albus across the hall, who had blushed slightly. 'I am sure you will give our guest, who has taken time out of his duties at the auror department specifically to aid you, a warm welcome. It is my pleasure to introduce to you, Mr Harry Potter.' A few gasps broke from the crowd, before they were overpowered by the fierce applause and cheers as Harry stepped out from the side-door behind the teacher's table. He was in his early 40s now, and his dark hair receding and lined with grey at his ears. There were faint lines around the emerald green eyes that looked out steadily from behind his glasses. The applause seemed to unsettle him slightly, and he raised a hand to quieten it. Silence fell.

'Hi,' he said warmly, a smile taking over his thin lips, 'I can honestly say I was glad to have an excuse to come back to Hogwarts and look around and also to have the opportunity to teach a complex aspect of my favourite subject.' The eyes of the students looked up at him with pure wonder, consuming his every word. 'The Patronus Charm can be a tricky one. To master it, you have to form a thought in your mind that can lift you to real, pure happiness. It needs to overtake you and really enchant you. You then say the words, '_expecto patronum'_ and if your happy thought really has filled you up, you will have success.' The students exchanged slightly doubtful glances. 'Take your time and let the thought fill you up and take you away. I, De- Professor Thomas and Professor Flitwick will disperse among you, observe and step in to help you where it is needed. Don't expect to get the hang of this straight away, your ability to conjure the Patronus will in fact have very little to do with your magical ability.' With that he walked down the steps and into the students, followed by the Professors.

Rose turned to Scorpius in confusion, 'what on earth are you going to think about?'

'No idea,' he shrugged, 'I'll improvise.'

Already the students around them had their eyes clamped shut, and some further away called out the incantation to no avail. Rose too closed her eyes. She had been happy, that she knew, incredibly happy; and yet now that she was under pressure to fill her whole being with joy she felt restricted and oppressed. So she thought of Scorpius, the first time they kissed at the Leaky Cauldron. She remembered the feel of his soft, pink lips on hers, and the way he had grabbed her hair, and the joy of all her hopes coming true in a single instant. She began to remember the happiness, the excitement, and yet it felt false, and indeed she did not hope for results when she uttered '_expecto patronum_' and got none.

Beside her, Scorpius had already progressed, achieving a silver wisp on his second go. Rose searched the hall, most were at a similar level to Scorpius, while other had their red faces screwed up in the effort of remembering and fabricating real happiness. She tried again with an equally poor outcome. A few metres from her a Hufflepuff screamed and jumped backwards and Rose turned to see a cloud of silver burst from the end of Violet's wand and take the unmistakeable form of a rabbit that darted through the students. There were laughs of wonder as the creature hopped above them, before vanishing in a puff of smoke.

'Wonderful!' cried Harry, reaching Violet and shaking her hand; her turquoise eyes widened in awe. 'That was a perfectly formed corporeal Patronus, congratulations Miss Boot. There will be more before long!' and the practising resumed.

Harry was right, and within minutes several other students had sent forth glimmering creatures, including Anwen, whose bright fox had sprinted right past Rose's head. As time wore on Rose became increasingly desperate, unable to find anything in her head that could equal the moment of that kiss. Next to her, with a triumphant cheer, a tall, fine stallion sprung from Scorpius' wand and reared up on its hind legs, before landing on Albus' field mice and sending it into a puff of silver smoke as it whizzed through the air.

'Rose,' said Harry from behind her, and Rose's heart sank as she turned to behold her uncle, for she was a failure in need of assistance, 'what do you think the problem is?'

'It feels fake,' she sighed, 'trying to remember and make myself happy. It doesn't feel right at all.'

'Then stop trying so hard,' he replied with a benevolent smile. 'Clear your mind; let your thoughts wander and you'll go somewhere good. It will be enough; that's what worked for me.' He stepped back and Rose again closed her eyes. She tried to forget the students who were undoubtedly watching her, tried to forget Scorpius and Harry and the whole Great Hall. And indeed, as soon as she had relaxed an image came clearly into her mind: a deep forest, lit only by the stars that shone through the treetops. She lay on the roots that formed a bed and looked up at the heavens. It was calm and cool and dark, and the sky that stretched out before her was beautiful. There was a song too, coming from a tree above, a high, bright chirp that calmed her and seemed to wrap her in the night air and carry her away.

'_Expecto patronum_!' she said, and jolted backwards as the burst of silver sprung from her wand. She opened her eyes to see a little nightingale spread its wings and take off above their heads. There was a collective 'ooo' from the other students as they beheld the little creature dance in the sun beams that stretched through the clouds. It flew into the gold before it dissolved.


	33. A Funeral

Two weeks later, Scorpius trudged through the perfectly-shaped hedges and elaborate gardens of Malfoy Manor. His eyes darted around, observing his former home, as obscured by the heavy rain. It had not changed in the several months that had passed since he last entered it, but then he supposed the great, white structure had not changed for hundreds of years; it was stagnant, frozen in time. He felt a forceful sickness rolling in his stomach as he approached the doors, and had an overwhelming urge to turn back into the rain and flee, back to Hogwarts and back to Rose, but he could not, pulled by that morbid necessity for a farewell, even though the influence had been oppressive and rotten.

He thought back to the letter, arriving a week previously in Cronus' week on a warm, pleasant morning. In his mother's long, slanted handwriting it notified him of the death of his grandfather, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, from a sudden illness that had wasted a man aged by torment. It had overshadowed the pretty morning sun, and Rose's smile, and cast a dull pall of confused emotion across the world. Scorpius had not known how to feel: grief? Surprise? Relief? Nothing had come, and he had passed into a state of quiet numbness which had bewildered and frustrated the fragile Rose. He still did not know how to feel.

When he was a few steps from the doors, they were pulled open and the face of his father revealed. Draco looked exhausted, with dark circles under his steely eyes and his thin hair greasy and untidy. The lines across his pale face looked deeper in the dull light that crept through the cloud. He nodded curtly and said nothing, and Scorpius returned the gesture before they stepped into the entrance hall of the house.

Groups of people were sparsely spread through the sterile space. He saw the Notts, Anwen stood next to her pallid, stringy father and pug-faced mother, and wondered again how beauty could come from the ugly combination; his aunt Daphne with her husband, a feline-faced man of deep mahogany complexion named Blaise Zabini; and mostly old, grey wizards, with faces of rotting bitterness and misery, who were doubtless the few of Lucius' former friends who were not in Azkaban. Finally, he saw his grandmother in reserved conversation with several of these old men; she looked little changed from their last meeting, having presented herself immaculately in robes of black velvet and assumed a unreadable, empty expression on her neatly-carved features. His father did not say another word to him, but walked over to the Notts. Scorpius did not follow him, and looking upon these people he felt only revulsion. He did not know why he had come, and now wished strongly to be gone. He did not want to talk to them, to be in their company, to feign respect for the weak, pathetic creature they were burying.

The appearance of his mother through the dining room door roused him from his thoughts. She looked beautiful, as ever, with her thick, chestnut hair knotted up and her blue eyes sparkling, but she had an air of pallor and illness, and when her eyes clasped onto Scorpius a small scream escaped her pale lips. She rushed towards him, her stately black robes having the appearance of a gliding ghost, and caught his hand in hers. Scorpius pulled it away, holding his mother's gaze coolly.

'I have to get out of here,' he snapped, but rather than turning for the door, set off up the great marble stairs. He needed loneliness and familiarity, and knew that the only place that could really be found was the bedroom in which he had passed long, tired hours of solitude. He slammed the door shut behind him and fell down on his bed, realising now how much he had missed its privacy and sanctuary, even if it was presented with ridiculous grandeur unique to the Malfoy family. But Astoria followed him in, and stood awkwardly beside the bed, looking upon him with eyes glowing with tears.

'Scorpius,' she said tenderly, loading the name with as much desperation and grief as she could.

'I don't want to hear it,' he said coldly.

'I wrote!' she cried, kneeling before him and again clasping his hands, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks, 'I wrote every day but you never replied. I'm so sorry, Scorpius, my Scorpius, I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to go. Please, please come home for the summer, please.'

He turned away towards the window, the landscape obscured by the rain banging furiously against the glass to its constant, reliable, calming rhythm. It wasn't her fault, he admitted interiorly, or at least she wasn't the worst. He could never hate her entirely when she was probably the only reason he hadn't grown up as loathsome as the rest of the Malfoys.

'But you let it happen, Mother,' he replied quietly, his gaze still fixed on the rain, and she bowed her head as sobs heaved her body, 'like you always let everything happen, and you never stop them.'

'I try, I t-try,' she protested weakly, barely forcing out the words in her choked gasps, 'you don't know how hard it is.' Scorpius' face twitched to anger again. He jumped to his feet and turned towards her.

'What's _so hard_? You'd let them chuck me out rather than bloody stand up and say what you think?' he said with a voice of quiet venom and handsome features contorted with desperate fury. 'Too scared to have a normal relationship with me in case it upsets their twisted beliefs of how kids should be brought up, with money thrown at them and never a hint of affection? Oh well, it doesn't matter you _tried_. You let them ruin my life but it's ok because you _tried_!' She was a snivelling wreck at his feet, shaking as sobs rattled through her body. 'Why didn't you do it for me?' He said, but his voice cracked as he slumped back on the bed, swallowing hard on the painful knot in his throat.

His mother's breathing eased, and she looked up at his with red, swollen eyes as she whispered, 'because I love your father more than anything in the world, and I fear that he would choose them- her- above me.' The sobs resumed and she crumpled to the floor again like a bird shot out of the sky. Scorpius looked at his mother through his own tears, and for an instant knew purely the pathetic core of all beings, and thus in silent pity joined her on the floor, with a soft arm around his mother's quivering shoulders.

'I will come home,' he said in her ear, and she nodded as fresh tears fell from her eyes, but could say nothing in reply.

Soon she had recuperated, and when their tears were hidden they joined the party outside in the pouring rain, with a shield charm cast over them and the grave as the dull, black casket was cast into the damp ground, and soulless words said, and no one cried. They retreated to the house for firewhiskeys and quiet, stilted conversation. Scorpius floated, largely ignored, avoiding Anwen's warm glances and exchanging the occasional look with his fragile mother, and a few polite words with his father. Soon, he announced his intention to leave and his parent's walked with his to the doors that separated them from the rain.

'Your mother told me you will return here for summer. I am glad to hear it,' said Draco awkwardly, not meeting his son's eye. Scorpius nodded.

'Write, my darling,' implored his mother, putting her arms around his and a forceful kiss on his cheek. Draco looked reproachful and Astoria checked herself slightly by resuming a cold expression. Scorpius sighed inwardly.

'I'll see you in June,' he said, and cast a last look at the pair who now seemed so bizarre to him, and walked into the heavy rain.


	34. And A Wedding

After Scorpius' return to Hogwarts, the remainder of term passed in a warm blur of exam panic and quiet, warm nights by the black lake with Rose. It was a happy, calm time in which hours of study could be forgotten under light kisses and the stars. The weeks rolled by with little to distinguish them apart from the growing warmth of the sun and the flowers that littered the castle's grounds. One time he even had the honour of accompanying Rose and her cousins to their monthly afternoon tea with Hagrid, which was an event free of suspicion or resentment, and he was a part of it, a part of them, a part of the great tradition of love and charm that Hogwarts had bestowed upon its young scholars for centuries past.

When the time came to bid the old castle farewell for the summer months, Scorpius found his usual grief to be assuaged somewhat at the knowledge that it did not mean cold, lonely weeks locked away in the old mansion, but long days of joyous escape with Rose, or even Lily and the whole Potter-Weasley clan he had grown so accustomed to. To set the summer off to a glorious start, its first weekend hosted the much-anticipated wedding of Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley, to which Scorpius was overjoyed to hear he had been invited as Rose's guest. And it was with that same joy that he wandered down to the Burrow on a sunny day at the end of June.

The house was much changed since his last visit, strewn with banners of white and silver, and an archway of entangled white flowers set out on the lawn, with rows of chairs stretching back towards the orchard. The garden was already filled with guests, their dress robes glittering in the glare of the sun. The crowd was undeniably made up of a disproportionate level of ginger heads, which at least made it harder to locate Rose. But he found her stood between her brother and another cousin Scorpius vaguely recognised as Molly Weasley, a year younger than Hugo, with thickly curled red hair and glasses. He started towards her, and they met with a light embrace and subtle kiss on the cheek. Molly eyed him somewhat suspiciously, looking ludicrous with her eyes magnified by her thick lenses.

'It's so exciting,' smiled Rose, looking pleasant in her powder blue dress robes, 'everyone's been waiting for them to get married for years now.'

'_Years_ is hardly true, Rose,' said Molly with an uppity sniff of her nose. 'After all, Victoire is still only 22.'

'Rose, you stand corrected,' murmured Scorpius under his breath with a smirk, which earned him a sharp look from Molly, before she turned on her heel and marched back into a larger group, pulling the reluctant Hugo with her. 'Where's Lils anyway?'

'Getting ready with Victoire, Dominique and Roxy. The offer of bridesmaid was made to all us girl cousins, but me, Molly and Lucy rejected it. I didn't particularly like the prospect of tripping over on the aisle in front of everyone,' she said, blushing slightly. He brushed a strand of hair from her bright eyes.

'It's a shame,' he said gently, 'I'd have liked to have shown off my beautiful girlfriend to all of them, but at least now you're all mine.' She turned crimson and sunk towards him.

'Let's go and see Teddy,' she said, taking his hand and leading him towards the shimmering archway. For the event it would appear that the groom had been persuaded to dull his usual shock of turquoise hair to a respectable brown, though none of his playful good looks were lost for it. Upon seeing Rose he wrapped her in his lanky arms and shook Scorpius' hand warmly,

'Congratulations!' they said in unison.

'Don't speak too soon,' he said, with a mischievous grin and a wink. 'Now, you haven't seen your wonderfully reliable cousin James have you? It's just he ran off on an errand and I haven't seen him since, and I was rather fond of those rings.'

'I'm afraid not,' replied Rose, rolling her eyes at the predictability of James' behaviour, 'but we'll look out for him.' With that the young couple bid him a final wish of good luck, and joined the other guests in taking a seat. Due to Teddy's substantial lack of relatives, the guests from both sides were all mixed in together, and Rose and Scorpius took a few rows from the front next to Albus.

'I don't know what Teddy was thinking, letting James be best man,' Albus sighed, peering through the heads in search of his older brother.

'Ah, there he is!' exclaimed Scorpius, and indeed James had finally appeared beside the groom, and it was evident that all attempts to tame his wild, black hair had failed miserably.

The opening notes of a violin's melody announced the bride's emergence. And indeed, upon turning their heads all were struck by the most glorious sight. Victoire looked radiant, her pale skin emitting a brilliant, silver glow; her golden hair tumbling down her back, little lilac flowers and daisies tangled in the locks. But it was her dress that drew gasps of wonder, the light, creamy layers appearing to flutter around her in the light breeze; strands of silver thread spread down the skirt like little rivers in the brilliant sun; and the light fabric drawn in at her waist by a small, lilac string, causing it to cling lightly to her shimmering skin. Bill walked beside her, greying ponytail still in place, his own appearance improved by his daughter's beauty as her glow seemed to fade the scars that marred his features still.

Behind her came the bridesmaids, in mid-length dresses of the same floating, fabric that twirled around them, though theirs was of a soft purple. Dominique glittered like her sister, with a daisy chain crowning her pale yellow bob, while Roxanne followed, her dark skin glowing under the sun and her brown eyes shimmering like gold. Lily came last, and Scorpius' eyes could not but widen at the shocking intensity of her splendour. Her long, flaming hair was drawn back into a fishtail plait that lay softly over her shoulder, little wild flowers intermingling with the strands of fire. Her freckles were like stars of the night sky powdering her ivory skin, while her full lips were a pale pink and shimmered like wet paint, and her slender but strong body caressed lightly by that twirling purple cloth.

The four girls glided like a class of goddesses, silencing all who laid eyes on them; especially Teddy, who gazed at Victoire as if there were nothing else in the universe but that bright, bright star. When Lily passed Scorpius, and her glittering lips curved into a smirk, he could not help but smile back, caught up entirely in the beauty of this faery child with her crown of wild flowers.


	35. Below The Stars

The last rays of sunlight were creeping below the hills when Rose grabbed Scorpius' hand and pulled him towards the dance floor. Music whistled through the air as the hundreds of guests twirled and laugh. It was not like Fleur, after all, to allow any expense to be spared. The elf wine flowed at the small, crystal tables that had been laid out below the freshly erected marquee, and in the centre of it all were Teddy and Victoire. Her golden head lay against his chest as they swayed and turned in quiet harmony; he kissed her shimmering hair.

It was not with quite so much grace that Rose and Scorpius stumbled along in their awkward dance, him laughing and her blushing as she tripped again.

'Sorry,' she mumbled with a small giggle, and he pulled her closer so she rested her head on his shoulder. 'I love you,' she whispered, before clamping her lips shut as if she had said it by accident. She pulled away to get a clear view of his face; there was uneasiness in his knitted brow and tensed jaw.

'Me too,' he said quietly, and pulled her in again, but perhaps to hide his face from her view more than anything. Rose tried to ignore the silent sadness that spread through her chest. But they danced on, and after a few more stumbles they were laughing again, and with a soft kiss which earned the wolf whistles of James and Fred, all was well. 'I think we've inflicted quite enough of our dancing on the world,' laughed Scorpius, taking her hand and pulling her back towards the table, but before they had crossed the dance floor an incredibly drunken Ron was at their side.

'Scorpy,' he slurred, wrapping an arm around the young man's shoulder, while Rose's crimson face fell into her palm. 'Now don't get me wrong, your old man is a complete scumbag,' Scorpius nodded a sent, which earned him a heavy ruffle of neatly combed hair, 'but you're alright, really.' Scorpius laughed and shook the hand that Ron extended.

'Thank you, Mr Weasley,' he said, stifling a laugh. With that, Ron wandered back into the crowd and joined an excruciatingly bad dance with the equally dishevelled George. When he was gone, Rose raised her face to reveal her mortification.

'I am so sorry,' she muttered, taking deep breaths to soothe the redness of her cheeks.

'It was hilarious!' exclaimed Scorpius, taking her face in his hands and stroking her flushed cheek with his thumb. Her pink lips extended to a shy smile. They were interrupted by Fleur, who beckoned Rose over to their party.

'You go,' smiled Scorpius, 'I need a sit down anyway.' And thus she skipped away, her blue robes waving behind her.

He set off back across the dance floor, and this time made it back to the quiet empty table, where he took a sip of his wine and watched the sparkling, humming scene. Now he had time to reflect of the strange events that had passed between himself and Rose. The declaration of love was all well and good, and indeed expected, but perhaps not this early on. They had scarcely been together a few months. It seemed to cheapen it somehow, obscure its purity. He suspected that he reciprocated it, or would certainly grow to entirely. But while Rose may through words around and be a ball of disorganised feelings, or perhaps it was because he had seen so little of it himself, to him love, real love, seemed a sacred deity. To declare it prematurely seemed a profound disrespect. He didn't want to be those who declared eternal adoration after a few dates and thought nothing of casting it aside; Scorpius wanted something real, and to say nothing more than what was true, and yet now he had ended up saying something he wasn't sure he meant at all. As much as he adored her, could it really definitively be called love so soon?

'Oi, Scorpy,' came happily familiar voice from behind him. He turned to see Lily, in all the glory of her earlier appearance, although her plait had begun to fall apart somewhat and her makeup was not quite so flawless in its application, and yet she was perhaps made prettier in the dull, flickering yellow light of the torches and candles that illuminated the party. She perched herself on the seat beside him and poured herself a glass of wine.

'Do your parents know you drink?' he asked with a mock critical eye.

'What they don't know won't hurt them.' She smirked and took a long glug from her glass. 'What are you doing being all lonesome and contemplative anyway?'

'Ooh, big word!' he grinned and she hit him with surprising force, 'Ouch! And Rose has been kidnapped by a beautiful Frenchwoman and I dared not disturb.'

'Wise choice with Fleur,' she muttered, although her words were affectionate rather than harsh. 'Well, it looks boring, so come with me!' She jumped up and skipped away from the gathering and into the gathering dark of the fields without a backward glance.

'Lily!' he called, 'Where on earth are you going?' But he followed on, through the thick, tall grass that was soon up to his knees. His only guiding light was the distant twinkling of her hair under the moonlight. Soon she had stopped in the almost absolute darkness and he drew up behind her. She turned to him but he could only just make out her silhouette.

'Watch,' she said, running away again, seeming to swoop to the ground and gather up objects in her arms. She set down the pile between them, and he knelt down with her. It was wood, as if to make a fire.

'But Lily, we can't use magic,' he warned; her laughed pierced the night air.

'Aw, Scorps, all locked up in your manor and never got to experience the great outdoors.' In each hand she picked up two small shimmering objects, and beat them together. To the shock of Scorpius, the collisions spurted small sparks, which within seconds caught onto the pile of wood and a small fire began to spread. He looked up to see that it had illuminated her face, sending a flickering orange light across her freckles. She watched the fire with wonder, the flames dancing in her eyes. 'I love fire,' she whispered, hiking up her dress and kneeling on the grass.

'Why did you come down here?' he asked.

'Because it's pretty,' she said with a happy smile. 'Fire; and you can see the stars clearer from here. If we're going to sit around doing nothing, we might as well do it somewhere pretty. Oh, and the wine!' She threw her glowing hair back and took another sip.

'I don't know anything about you, Lils,' he said, taking his own place on the grass opposite her. She looked at him curiously over the flames. 'I mean, you've spent so long sorting out mine and Rose's lives, and I know next to nothing about yours.' She laughed and shook her head vaguely.

'My name is Lily Luna Potter, named so after my maternal grandmother who was killed by Voldemort in the first war, and my parents' bonkers friend, Luna Scamander, now a noted explorer and general nutcase. I am the sole daughter of the one, the _only_,' how she layered on the sarcasm, 'Harry James Potter, the boy who lived and lived and lived! Therefore, I am famous, _very_ famous. You ask me why you don't know about my life? Because it's good practise for the rest of it – you've already had a taste of it. I mean, James certainly used it to his advantage with the girls at Hogwarts, and good on you and Rose for facing up to it, for being together anyway; and I can't wait to have something that's worth fighting for like that too,' hers eyes settled steadily on the fire. 'And when I have it I'll fight them, and show them that it's _my_ life, not theirs, whoever my dad is.' He looked at her and saw her as he had not before; gone was the silly frivolity of the girl on the broomstick, and there was Lily, with her blazing eyes filled with fire and strong, set jaw that would betray no weakness. 'Oh, and I'm fourteen and 9 months,' and her familiar grin returned. 'Will that suffice?'

But before he could reply, the grass rustled and another two figures came stumbling out of the grass towards him. By the light of the fire he could just make out their features: Rose and Albus.

'I knew you'd be down here,' said Albus, his black hair even messier than usual as he set himself down beside Lily. Rose slipped down next to Scorpius and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders; he loved her feel of her warm skin, and caught the sweet scent of her hair.

'We came down here all the time as kids,' replied Rose to Scorpius' questioning look, 'Play in the long grass, pretending it was a sea of inferi, and end up here. It's as pretty as it ever was.'

'I know,' he agreed, casting his pale grey eyes across the distant hills, glowing now under the silver moon and the burning, burning stars. He planted a kiss in the sweet red strands of her hair.


	36. Lily's Turn

**PART TWO**

15 months had passed since that warm night under the stars, and now Lily Potter, almost 16 and more beautiful for it, stood on Platform 93/4 on a crisp September afternoon. The platform was buzzing, as it always was, as young witches and wizards hurrying to load the last of their luggage onto the packed train and say their goodbyes.

'I can't believe it's your OWL year already,' laughed Ginny, 'try and do _some_ work for it.'

'No promises,' replied Lily with a shrug of her shoulders, which earned a stern look from her mother and a light laugh from her father. 'Why aren't you warning Al about his NEWTs?'

'Because we know Al is at Hogwarts to study and had a strong sense of time management and hard-work,' said Harry, while Albus looked slightly smug next to him, 'not that I have any idea where he got that from.'

'And, Lils, we know what you're like,' smirked Ginny.

'What's _that_ supposed to mean?' she demanded, almost stamping her foot like she would all those years ago when she watched in horror as her brothers went to Hogwarts without her.

'Nothing, nothing,' assured her mother with a teasing smile, 'and for God's sake the train's almost moving!'

With a hurried embrace for their parents and the usual empty promises to write every week, Albus and Lily sprinted through the crowd before jumping on the express just as it lurched forward. The train was bursting with students as always and the compartments relentlessly full.

'The luggage carriage it is then,' muttered Lily under her breath, before they finally came across the compartment occupied by Rose, Scorpius and Violet. Rose and Scorpius had changed little through their 6th years, although in an act as impulsive as Rose could get, she had cut her long, red hair to a length just above her shoulders. It was with little surprise to all that weeks before she had received a letter granting the title of Head Girl, and even now there was a blue badge pinned to her robes, with a bronze 'H' emblazoned on the front. Scorpius had grown taller still, and now that the Weasley association had confirmed him as a non-Blood Purist (apart from those who still suspected he was a spy) he had quickly transformed into one of the most desirable young men in Hogwarts, with his pale good looks and title as Captain and seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, though he seemed not to have noticed his newfound popularity, remaining loyally and quietly with Rose. And then there was Violet, ever small and soft, with her brown hair tied in a loose ponytail and her turquoise eyes grinning, for she was one who smiled with her eyes more than any other.

'Worked out who's Head Boy yet?' asked Lily as she sat next to Violet and Albus beside Scorpius.

'It's a Hufflepuff,' replied Violet, 'David Macmillan. Quite posh, bit of a know-it-all, surprisingly un-Hufflepuff. He seems the Head Boy type anyway.'

'Well, I have to go for a meeting in another carriage with him, Professor Goldstein and Professor Sprout in a minute anyway,' said Rose, 'do I look smart enough?'

'The perfect head girl,' laughed Scorpius, planting a kiss on her cheek and squeezing her waist.

'Still weird,' said Albus, blushing slightly, 'Just not when I'm sitting next to you, please. I can't escape.' Lily threw her head back with a laugh.

'Aw, it's ok Al; did mum and dad never tell you where babies come from?' Even Albus giggled, though he again sunk back into his chair with pink cheeks.

'I should go,' said Rose, standing up and smoothing down the black robes that she had naturally already changed into.

'You'll be fine,' said Scorpius, smiling and giving her a hug that lifted her slightly off her feet.

'Don't mess up my robes!' she protested, and he dropped her to her feet with a laugh.

'Good luck!' echoed the rest of the compartment as Rose slipped behind the sliding door.

'She's such a Head Girl,' sighed Lily.

The group passed a few minutes in idle conversation and the usual speculation about the school year, while gradually changing into their robes, all having mastered a perfect technique by now of changing without the need to show any flesh.

'Victoire said something interesting to me,' said Albus, straightening his robes and placing his Prefect badge onto them, 'that Hogwarts should be 'especially fun' this year. And she works in the Department of International Magical Co-operation, so do you reckon it's time for that exchange thing again with two other schools?'

'Oh, yeah!' exclaimed Violet, 'but didn't we know by the start of term last time?'

'They had to tell us before,' said Scorpius, 'seeing as they were shipping us off to Eastern Europe, or wherever that was.'

'I wish I could have come,' said Lily, crossing her arms. She had been too young to go on the last trip, as only 4th years and above were applicable, and she had only been in her second at the time.

'You didn't miss much,' Albus assured her, 'it was freezing and the students were a bunch of miserable gits.'

'Well, I suppose if we haven't heard anything about it this year, that means their coming to us,' concluded Scorpius.

'Oh,' sighed Lily, clearly disappointed, 'I'd have loved to go abroad!'

But they were interrupted as Roxy Weasley stuck her head around the compartment door.

'There you are!' she laughed, looking at Lily, 'Leo and I couldn't find you anywhere.'

'I know, the train was packed.' Lily had almost forgotten that these were not her usual Hogwarts friends, but Leo and Roxy, of her own year. So with a smile, a goodbye, and a flick of her bright red hair she skipped out of the compartment. 'Where are you lot sitting?'

'Only a few spaces down,' Roxy replied, her dark eyes shimmering with warmth. 'I barely saw you over the holidays apart from those few birthdays! What did you get up to?'

'Oh, the usual: annoying Albus with James; sorting out the slightest row between Rose and Scorpius...'

'You're still the go-to girl for problem solving then?' asked Roxy, pulling the compartment door open.

'Naturally,' replied Lily, 'I don't mind though. They're both so inept at relationships they need someone to sort them out.'

She looked around the compartment and saw Leo at the window, a Gryffindor boy of her own year. He was tall and thin, lightly freckled with dark brown hair that fell around his jaw and dark grey-blue eyes. He had worked hard to carry the torch of mischief that had been left largely abandoned since James and Fred had left. Leo rose, and greeted her with a rough hug, spinning her on the spot; she laughed and wrenched herself free, punching his arm playfully.

'My one, my _only_ Lily, how have I been without you these past months?'

'Oh shut up,' she said with her musical giggle, and shoved him back into his seat. She cast a glance down his robes, 'no prefect badge for any of us then I see?'

'Flitwick might be old but he's not mental,' laughed Roxy, 'especially with you two! You've never done a decent day's work in your lives.'

'I'm deeply offended that you should say so,' said Leo, greatly affected, 'I dedicate myself fully to the task of fun and enjoyment; and there never was such a hub for these efforts as Hogwarts!'

'Oh, piss off,' laughed Lily. 'And how have you filled your long summer days?'

'With wine and women all manner of pleasure,' he said, flicking his hair.

'I forgot you were a liar as well as an idiot,' Lily smiled sweetly.

Thus the journey progressed, and afternoon passed and drew into evening, and the sun fell behind the gathering mountains. Roxy had fallen asleep by the time the train had pulled into Hogsmeade, and was naturally woken up by Leo placing his face extremely closed to hers and tapping her. She jumped back in panic.

'For God's sake!' she cried, regaining her breath, 'I'm going to kill you one day.'

Soon the 3 friends were loaded onto a horseless carriage and were rolling up the hill towards Hogwarts, which flickered and glowed in the dark night.

'You never get used to how amazing it looks on that first night of the year,' said Leo, gazing up at the castle, his face lit slightly by the orange light emitting from it.


	37. Filles et Garcons

Lily rose early the next morning and trudged down from the Gryffindor tower alone, leaving Roxy to sleep in peace. The sky was still the heavy grey of fading night, and it would be an hour until breakfast was served, so she soon found herself perched on the windowsill of the owlery, a hundred birds hooting around her. Lily did not own an owl herself, but a silver tabby cat by the name of Drizzle who was presently wrapped up in her scarlet bedclothes back in the dormitory. Despite this, her poor sleep always brought her here, to watch over the growing illumination of the grounds and listen to the flutter of hundreds of beatings wings.

She began to feel it again, the quiet sadness that seeped from her art to the rest of her chest, spreading and polluting until she could feel the ache in the ends of her fingertips. Lily did not entirely understand the grief that permeated her being, but suspected it had something to do with the knowledge that despite her wide range of friends and those who wished to be confidantes, she could not think of a single person she would want with her at this moment. Perhaps Scorpius was the exception, but as her cousin's boyfriend he didn't really count, but he did always say the right thing. Her face reflected the grey of the clouds.

It was a long time before she moved, and all the while her warm, dark eyes stayed locked on the boundaries of the forest, just visible in the dull light, with its shadows and yellowing leaves. The first decay of the year. She hated the autumn, loathed it, to watch the earth fade around her, watch her own skin pale, like the whole world was met with a dementor's kiss. At least Roxy and Leo would take her mind off it, or Scorpius and Rose when she bumped into them, most of the time at least. But not on the grey mornings. Now there was nothing to distract her and she was entirely alone.

Troubled by the thought, she slipped from the window and with a goodbye stroke to Cronus and Athena, Scorpius' and Rose's respective owls, set off down the numerous corridors and stairs to breakfast. Despite her time in the owlery, Lily saw that she was still one of the first to arrive in the Great Hall, and could locate neither Roxy nor Leo as both were prone to sleep in. Scanning the other tables, she did catch sight of Scorpius sitting alone, his brow furrowed and gaze intent on the piece of toast he turned idly in his fingers, apparently with no intention to eat it. Instinctively she started towards him, and, looking up, his lips assumed a strained smile while his eyes remained firmly dulled.

'What's up with you?' Lily asked, 'It can't be another row. You two were actually getting on yesterday.' A ghost of a smirk passed over his lips.

'No, no fight. Nothing's wrong at all,' he replied, and Lily had a strange sense that he was looking through, rather than at her. Despite his wasted appearance, she felt the truth in his words. There had been no argument.

'Something's wrong. You look like a ghost,' she said, and his eyes fell back to the toast.

'I don't know, Lils, I don't know.' he muttered, shaking his head, 'Maybe it's being back here again, like nothing is changing or getting better or – I just don't –'

Rose appeared beside them, her hair wild with freshly woken sleep, and he stopped talking, forcing down a gulp of toast instead. By the glow in Rose's eyes and the smile playing at her lips, it was clear to Lily indeed that there had been no argument, and after a few idle scraps of conversation it was clear that Scorpius would not speak again in Rose's presence. Thus, with an inward sigh, Lily left the strange couple behind and resumed her place opposite the newly arrived Leo and Roxy.

'I_ literally _cannot wait,' grinned Roxy, 'I've heard tantalising things about American _sorcerers_, as they say.'

Scorpius and the owlery had caused Lily to entirely forget the news of the day, which was clearly causing a buzzing excitement across breakfast as Roxy was evidently not alone in expressing excitement. The previous night at the start of term feast, Professor Flitwick had announced that Saturday would bring the arrival of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Salem Witches' Institute. There had originally been minor trepidation from the witches of Hogwarts, before the knowledgeable Rose had cleared up that Salem had indeed taken to educating boys since the 1920s and there would thus be no shortage of date opportunities for the Yule Ball, a gathering at Christmas for those above their 4th Year to send off the foreign students.

'Say that you want about the Americans,' said Leo with a roll of his eyes, 'I will personally be looking forward to getting my hands on some lovely Beauxbatons _filles._'

'Well, I agree that you're both a pair of perverts,' replied Lily with an eye-scrunching smile, which brought calls of protest from her two friends.

'Just because you get all the attention anyway,' argued Roxy, 'For Leo and I, this is our only chance to interact with people who don't know we're freaks already.'

'And they're _French_,' Leo reiterated with a wink.

Thus passed breakfast, and soon Leo and Lily were hit by the fresh, autumn air as they left the castle for Care of Magical Creatures, while Roxy had set off up the stairs to Divination. There were already a few crisp leaves blowing over the fields as the pair trudged past the greenhouses, still arguing over the propriety of Leo's remarks.

'It's pure objectification if you _do_ end up going with one of those poor girls,' said Lily with a smug flick of her hair.

'Well, it's xenophobic to rule them out,' he retorted, 'who would you have me go out with?'

'I think you shouldn't be so dismissive of Hogwarts girls; it's insulting.'

'You should've said if you wanted a date so much,' he said as they arrived at the group of students, and lightly elbowed her side. 'I'm willing to go out with you, if you want me so badly.'

'Cocky muppet!' she snapped, whacking his arm.

'Saturday it is then? Hogsmeade?'

But before she could co-ordinate the string of insults and retorts running through her head, Hagrid had stepped forward from the forest, carrying in his arms something that appeared to be a snake with glowing red eyes. Suddenly, he gave a yelp and threw the snake into the air, for it had appeared to have laid a red hot egg on his arm that had now exploded on the ground and burnt away all the grass around it.

'Here we go again,' sighed Lily with a roll of her eyes.


	38. Gryffindors

_Author's Note: Got to be honest, I've struggled a lot with this chapter – there's been some serious writer's block of late. It's one to set up future events for when all the good stuff kicks off shortly. Enjoy!_

The first week of lessons flew by, and soon Lily had more essays than would have been set in an entire term last year. Defence Against the Dark Arts was persistently the most difficult, with Professor Thomas setting two scrolls of parchment on concealment charms for Friday. While Roxy's response was to resign herself to the library with a sigh, it soon became evident that the intentions of Leo were quite the opposite.

'What the hell are you doing?' he demanded, grabbing the back of Lily's robes to halt her in her tracks as she followed her cousin to attack the mountain of homework.

'Don't start, Leo,' muttered Roxy, anxiously brushing back her fringe, 'You might not give a damn about failing, but I do.'

'And, wise as you are, can you speak for young Lillian here?' he said, shaking her with the hand still at the neck of her robes. Lily glared at him and muttered, 'that's not even my name,' under her breath.

'Lily,' said Roxy forcefully, and grabbed her arm so Lily found herself caught between the two, 'let's go.'

'Actually…' murmured Lily with a sheepish glance

'Oh, suit yourself then!' said Roxy, rolling her eyes, turning on her heel and vanishing behind the doors of the library.

'You're easy,' said Leo with a wink.

'Someone's going to slap you one day,' she returned, but linked her arm in his and pulled him down the corridor. He was more than a head taller than her, and looking up she could scarcely see his face, her dark eyes meeting only his slim chest.

'We have planning to do,' he said, and steered her off the main corridor, into a thin, shadowy passage, 'can't be too careful.'

'What the hell are you doing?' she said, crossing her arms. He smiled.

'Don't get too excited,' he winked again and she hit him. 'It's the beginning of term party of course! We need to kick off the year good and proper. I think Saturday should do?' Lily felt a thrill of excitement.

'Dusk till dawn?' she asked eagerly.

'Naturally,' he replied, 'with the finest firewhiskey Hogsmeade can offer, if you dare?' Their eyes met for a moment, as she considered the mischievous spark in them. Her full lips parted into a grin.

'I dare.'

'I knew I could count on you,' he said, ruffling her hair. She smoothed it down instantly. 'We must show our guests our utmost hospitality.' They laughed together, a fine, pure laugh that rang out along the darkling corridor. Lily felt warmth spread through her chest, a comfort kindled by his warm, hazel eyes.

'One problem,' she said in a low voice as they wandered back out onto the main corridor, 'if the exchange students are coming, we can't have it in the common room. Where on earth will we?'

'I have puzzled over this myself,' he said, and to her great surprise had no witty answer. They wandered up the stairs in quiet contemplation, and were yet to formulate an answer by the time they reached the Gryffindor Common Room. As the Fat Lady's portrait opened, Leo extended a hand to help her through. She slapped it away.

'I can balance, you know,' she sniped, although her cheeks flushed red as she slipped and tumbled into the room, which was virtually empty spare several of the younger students, blessed with a workload that did not cause them to retreat to the library.

'I don't doubt it,' muttered Leo under his breath, before crossing the room and assuming him usual place stretched out full-length on the sofa, even if it did mean shooing away a few first years. She took her place on the floor, curled up like cat as she leant back against the sofa. 'The grounds?' he suggested finally, with an air of hopelessness to his tone.

'No way,' she sighed, turning around and laying her chin on a cushion, 'far too many people. It'd be seen and we don't have the magic to conceal it.'

'Well, we desperately require a venue,' he sighed. All of a sudden Lily started and an enthusiasm gripped her features.

'Require,' she repeated quietly, before jumping to her feet. 'Of course! _Require_. How could I forget?' Suddenly, however, she seemed to catch herself and draw back.

'What? What is it?' he asked.

'I'm not sure I'm meant to say,' she said, pushing his legs from the sofa and sinking down beside him.

'Like you're not going to tell me,' he muttered, and met her gaze firmly. They shared a protracted look.

'Room of Requirement Seventh Floor turns into whatever your heart desires it to,' she said in a single breath. Leo took a few moments to take the words in, his eyes widening with glee. He seemed to take several deep breaths before speaking in a very measured voice.

'Perhaps you can enlighten me, Potter, as to why you are not currently residing in this room?'

'I dunno, dad told me about it. He's always been a bit weird about telling me things other kids don't know,' she said. He gripped her by each arms and forced her to look firmly into his eyes.

'This is the most brilliant thing that has happened!' he exclaimed, and indeed almost an hour had passed before Leo's ravings began to subside, and they assumed a comfortable silence, aided by the gathering shade of the sky and the low crackle of the fire. Other students began to arrive now, and the Common Room was filled with the usual evening buzz of chatter and games.

Soon Roxy had returned and the three sat in a small circle, Roxy plaiting Lily's hair as Leo stared at the ceiling, his vacant eyes hiding a bubbling anticipation. No light came through the windows now, and that which was inside seemed a deep burgundy, blanketing them all, keeping all these children safe.


	39. Expectations

Saturday morning dawned with a blazing sun that roared through the scarlet curtains, casting a rich, bloody hue around the dormitory, and onto Lily's cheeks. Her eyes opened and while her mind adjusted to the beckoning day, there was a growing sense of joy in her chest. She could feel it pushing on her ribcage as she sat up and shook her long mane of hair. Beautiful, beautiful hair – even she couldn't help but see that.

Lily looked around to see Roxy's body shivering with sleep, and the low chorus of sighs told her that she was alone in her consciousness. Standing up to dress, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was struck. That happened sometimes – she was caught off-guard by her own beauty. With her hair ruffled by morning, waving down her back like the ocean, her jaw firm and set, with strong eyes that looked fiery red now, and enough freckles to make her stand out, enough to look like the stars. Her body too – soft but firm, thin but unbreakable, pale but vigorous. She couldn't even be ashamed of her pride, not when the pale morning sun lit her and she was like a goddess, but of love or war she could not decide.

Trying to forget her beauty, and the swelling happiness inside her, she pulled on her robes. She circled the room with quiet footsteps, allowing her joy to rise and fall inside her. It was entirely inexplicable – she felt ridiculous – but let the grin stretch her lips, as if she could control it. The spell of sleep was still upon the world, and here she was happy, suspended between the night and the day. No one could look at her here, and yet she remained glorious. She was beautiful when no one could see her at all, and she knew that that was the greatest beauty to have, and thus her joy grew.

Her thoughts were stunted by a strange roar from the window. It sent a shiver through her; she did not want the day to come. Roxy's eyes too flickered open, 'What was that?' And then Olivia yawned and pulled herself up 'Is it Saturday?' and the twins, Chloe and Harriet, were stretching and turning. Lily wanted to push them all back and sing them to sleep, to keep them at bay, but the roaring noise came again and it was lost.

Roxy had her face to the window. 'Look, guys! Come and see this!'

Lily forgot herself entirely from that point and ran to join her cousin. She gasped. An enormous carriage, powder-blue and pulled by 4 gigantic winged horses, was flying through the air towards the castle. It must have been the size of a house.

'It's like the stories of the ancient wizards,' muttered Lily, 'like Helios' carriage across the sun.'

'Actually, Helios' _chariot _was pulled by Aethonan, not Abraxan winged-horses,' said Harriet. Her twin elbowed her. Lily cast a sharp look over her shoulder, but found her eyes inescapably pulled back to the sky. As the carriage drew nearer, it became evident that the Abraxan too were huge, maybe twice the size of normal horses. Their ivory wings seemed to stretch endlessly into the clouds. 'It's Beauxbatons,' Harriet concluded. They had already guessed this, but only Harriet needed to prove that she knew it.

The carriage whirled past the tower, but as soon as it had passed out of view a far stranger sight gripped them. It was barely noticeable at first, but down by the lack the very air seemed to shake, like heat rising and obscuring reality in greater and greater swirls. The surface rippled, before breaking apart and sending a rush of water into the air. The whirlpool that remained seemed to glow with a strange golden light, that burst through the waters and created a column of intense light pouring up through the sky (Lily squinted at its brightness). Then it dropped, the light dispersed, the waters calmed and on the bank of the river stood around 100 figures, perfectly composed and immaculately draped in robes of midnight blue and stars. The girls gasped in wonder.

'So melodramatic,' laughed Lily, rolling her eyes. 'Bloody Americans.'

But it was with haste and excitement that they ran down the stairs from the tower to meet the visitors, though the sun still rose only timidly in the morning sky. All around students were whispering excitedly, most being too young to have had previous contact with any foreign institutions. Upon reaching the entrance hall they observed Professor Longbottom standing, in fine dress robes, at the entrance to the Great Hall.

'You've probably just seen all the visitors arrive,' he addressed them, 'and if you'd like to make your way into the Great Hall, we will be formally introduced when all you lot are seated.'

Roxy giggled with excitement and grabbed Lily's arm, pulling her through the great oak doors and the chattering crowds to reach the Gryffindor table. Leo and Albus' faces appeared quickly, etched with anticipation.

'I didn't have time to do my make-up!' wailed Roxy, stroking her cheeks as if it would smooth her complexion. 'There'll be hundreds of gorgeous foreign wizards and I'll look a mess.'

'Don't be a tart, Rox,' said Leo with a wink.

Lily felt her heart fluttering in her chest. Spare Fleur, she'd never really met anyone from another country, and in consequence her expectations of the visitors were somewhat idealised. The Beauxbatons boys, she was sure, would be wine-swilling, sexy-accented intellectuals, and those of Salem athletic, confident and sure to sweep her off her feet in their puritanical tradition.

As soon as the hall had settled, Flitwick rose to his feet, though his lack of height meant that no one noticed. He tapped a glass and cleared his throat before the rumble of talking drew silent.

'As you know, today we welcome a range of students from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and the Salem Witches' Institute. Our guests will be staying with us for the rest of the autumn term, and we know that you will give them a welcome to make Hogwarts proud. Over the next few months they will be attending your classes, socialising with you and immersing themselves in our unique magical culture. I implore you to take advantage of their presence to broaden your horizons outside of our national Wizarding community, for you may well make some wonderful friends.

'Without further ado, I am delighted to present to you the young sorcerers and sorceresses of Beauxbatons and Salem!'

And in they came like a soft powder-blue breeze. Their robes were of a fine silk that seemed to flutter around them, so that even the boys possessed a startling elegance. They seemed charmed by the Great Hall, whispering to each other and giggling, while the Hogwarts students watched in suspended awe. Lily closed Leo's jaw with her forefinger.

'Maybe they just use all their magic on appearance,' sighed Roxy, nervously trying to flatten her hair.

The Americans followed in their shimmering, dark robes. Though less graceful, they carried a vivacity that the former had lacked. Their grins were full, their eyes sparkling, their voices booming.

With no tables laid out, the arrivals found easy room between the sitting Hogwarts students. It was a thrill to Lily and her companions that they were soon joined by 3 of the guests. The first to join them was a Beauxbatons girl. She was of small height and build, and thin enough that her collar bone was softly defined under her deathly pale skin. Her mousy hair tumbled clumsily to her waist, wrapping up her heart-shaped face, with its chiselled cheekbones, plump, rose lips and heavy brows. But to look into her eyes was to forget all else of her appearance, for they suspended you. They were a murky, oceanic blue-green, but wide and clear. You could see the waves in them under the flickering of the Hogwarts candles.

She brought with her a boy of her own school, who was equally pale, with the same tousled hair, though it was cut to fall around his eyes, and intense thinness. In contrast, however, he was so tall as to be lanky, and his own eyes were a more certain, paler blue. His look was somehow feminine, with the pink lips and flawless, marble skin, almost recalling a classical youth, an Adonis.

'We will seet wiz you… if you do not mind?' said the girl in a low, husky tone. Her words were slow; her English clearly uncertain.

'Not at all,' said Leo quickly, his eyes brightening.

'I am Aurélie,' she said, 'et zis is my tween bruzzer, Enzo.'

At this introduction another appeared beside Lily, dressed in the dark blue robes of Salem. He was tall, like Enzo, but firmer, with a solidity to his body that was a shocking contrast with the latter's ethereal grace. His face was gently tanned and littered with light stubble, and his hair chestnut like his eyes. He was, in the most stereotypical conception of the word, _hot_.

'Jackson,' he said, holding out his hand to Lily, which she shook uncertainly, 'if you wouldn't mind me joining you?'

And so it began.


	40. Intoxication

Arms and bodies in my face. All in bright orange light. My stomach's rolling around my body and my eyes are spinning spinning spinning. I can feel their sweat on my sweat and their eyes on my face. I'm sure I'm pale. I can't

Can't remember the name of that person. I recognise him nose, and think I've seen it when it was smaller. His hair's already reddy-orange without the weird light. Hugo. He's gone now.

I'm crashing through more people. There's music, I remember, but the words mix with the guitar and it's just a fog of noise that's filling up my head. There's not enough room in my head. No one is distinguishable. They're just a big, sweating, screaming body, spilling out vomit and alcohol and spells they can't control.

But there's someone watching me. I look up. She's on the stairs. I feel like I've been looking for her all along, and I can't remember if I really was or not. I'm in awe of the little shadows under her cheekbones and the soft point of her nose. It's like she's above the intoxicated mass below. She's like a princess in a tower. I want to be near her.

I'm at the stairs now. The muscles in my legs are pulling as I step towards her. I feel sea-sick. My body is tipping from side to side with every new stair and the banister won't steady me.

'Lily,' she says to me. I remember my name. Her voice is a violin with the wind blowing through it. ''Ow do you like eet?'

I can't remember the words. I just laugh and keep laughing. My knees crumble to pieces and I'm rolling around. She's laughing too with her arms around my body. On her nails are painted tiny little daisies, white like her skin and dark golden like her hair. They're so close to my face. I'm in a field of daisies. Her skin would feel so soft on mine if my nerves were still working.

'Come wiz me,' she giggles, and with the wave of her head her hair ripples out too slowly, like we're in space. My hand is in hers and she's pulling me forward. We're like a flowing train – we're joined – we're moving together through other bodies that are outside of us. We pass through a door.

It's not packed in here and it's darker. For a moment I think we're alone and I feel really happy. I want to laugh again. My head's clearer in here. I can feel my feet on the ground and the things my eyes settle on don't move. I see a little fire in the other corner of the room with 2 boys around it.

Leo.

I take a moment to work out who the pretty one with blue eyes is.

Enzo.

There's a cauldron on the fire. Enzo and Aurélie are talking in quick French and it's a blur of soft, low words. The words are warm like the darkness. We're all sitting around the fire now, watching a silver solution bubble.

'She's 'ad enough,' Aurélie laughs, ruffling my hair with her diamond, twinkling fingers. It would be too dangerous to work out what they were talking about – to bring myself back to the world of conversation – it's better to just float around, so I get up. I'm at the window and there are billions of stars flying away us while we sit here. I can see them all. Feel them pulling away. I can feel it in my chest. I feel like I'm losing something. I look back and Aurélie's white neck is exposed to the firelight. The last drip of the vial is on her tongue. She sighs. I can see Leo looking at the canvas of skin between her collarbone and her breasts. He wants her, but I think we all do.

_Not Enzo_, a little me whispers in my mind.

'You are famous even in France.' She is next to me now. She looks at the stars like I just did; she misses them too.

'You're better than me. I'm famous but it doesn't mean anything about me. People are still better than me.' I can't remember what I've said once the last words out of my mouth. They just came. Her fingers trace a circle in my palm that says that I'm better than a lot of people.

'Your voice is not what I expected. I thought everyone 'ere would sound like Leo.'

'He's from London,' my memory tells me without consciously remembering it – I can't think about things that are outside this room consciously. 'I'm from a town in Yorkshire.' She looks at me funny so I say, 'North.'

I realise it's not important to talk about stuff like that so I don't hear her reply. I sit down again. Leo's looking at both of us as he and Enzo take another vial. He looks better by the fire, with little shadows moving across his face. He looks angry and powerful in the fire.

I remember there's a party on the other side of the door and it makes me feel sick and sad. It means there's a whole world and everything's still there. That world is all bright lights and loud voices and people who don't look at the stars like we do. Aurélie looks at me and she feels it too, pulling us apart. Our hands entwine.

'I met you today,' she says, and it's those kind of facts that ruin everything – ruin now.

'I want to stay here forever. I want to stay in tonight forever,' I say, because it feels warm and safe here and if I were to be anywhere else I might realise they don't really know or care about me. We all love each other here. We're essential to each other. In this room the fire will never go out and the stars will always be just in sight.

My stomach's not churning anymore and my head's not spinning, but in my chest there's a field of daisies bursting out, lifting me up into the stars. It's overwhelming. She's a star beside me. Leo and Enzo come over and we sit in a circle. The moonlight's coming through the window and crowning us, fighting with the red light of the fire and the darkness. Red and white and black – and us in the middle - warm and whole like gods, and as eternal.

'Rox and Jacks are probably shagging,' slurs Leo, toppling to his side and onto Aurélie's stomach. She strokes his dark hair. I stroke his dark hair. Enzo's just laughing. I look at him and his eyes are so blue and pretty and we're all laughing. We're all in this whirling ball of light and we're laughing and laughing and laughing. I'm crying and crying and crying. There's spots of tears on the floor, as dark as the stars are white. Someone's holding me. I'm with my friends.


	41. Author's Apologies

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Regrettably, I will not be adding any more chapters to this fic as I do not believe it has showcased by writing ability to its present extent due to my progress over the past year.

I will, however, be re-submitting this story under a different name after it has been re-written. It will document the early childhoods and Hogwarts years of Scorpius, Rose and Lily in the same way, but will allow readers to better understand the characters as I have developed them.

I will leave this story online until the re-written one has been submitted.

Thank you for reading and supporting this story,

Poppy


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